


Blue

by WriteBecauseYouCannotBreathe



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Doublebending AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I will row this canoe all by my damn self, Image Credit: 2 Blue Raindrops by Thomas Deir, No savior SO nonsense, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, You guys say you want enemies to friends to lovers and slow burn but you never commit, this has ENEMIES to friends to lovers and SLOW burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 33,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteBecauseYouCannotBreathe/pseuds/WriteBecauseYouCannotBreathe
Summary: Azula wakes up to blue arrows on her hands. Soulmate AU.
Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Yue (Avatar)
Comments: 340
Kudos: 617
Collections: Fics That Should Be Adored and Loved





	1. Chapter 1

Azula wakes up to blue arrows on her hands.

They stretch across her arms and meet somewhere on the crest of her neck.

If Ty Lee were here she'd squeal and say something nonsensical, like how Azula and the Avatar are star-crossed lovers.

If Mai were here she'd share a smirk with Azula and they'd both be thinking about how much easier this would make capturing the Avatar.

But they're not here so Azula rolls down her sleeves and hides her flaw.


	2. Chapter 2

Aang wanted Katara to be his soulmate.

It made sense. She was the first person he saw after waking up from a hundred year slumber. The first person who believed in him.

She ended up being Zuko's soulmate.

Their bond appeared through writings on skin. Katara had shown him how the scrawls she left on her skin would show up on Zuko like parchment. "This could help us with the invasion!" she had exclaimed, with a smile so hopeful that Aang momentarily forgot his heartbreak.

So when Aang felt tingling on his back, and made sure it wasn't a creepy crawly sent by the Fire Lord in some nefarious scheme, Aang was hopeful. Nervous, but hopeful.

He hoped it was someone he could recognize because he was nervous about fighting the Fire Lord, and very nervous about dying in said fight with the Fire Lord, and very, very nervous about never meeting his soulmate because he died in his fight with the Fire Lord and the only thing she will remember him by is his failure to save the World a second time.

He had explained as much to Sokka, who then took a look at his back, made a pinched face, and said, "Well, you definitely know her and have already met..."

"That's great! Who is she?"

"Uh, maybe it's best if you don't know. You know what, just never look at your back again."

"Is it Suki?"

"Wha-NO! Suki's my girlfriend!"

"Toph?"

"No."

"Katara?"

"Katara's soulmate is Sifu Hotman over there so no-"

"-then who is it, Sokka? C'mon just tell me."

Sokka sighs. "Alright, I'll describe your soulmark to you, maybe it's a different person than the one I'm thinking of, but keep in mind that I warned you. Also, just because the universe says this person is your soulmate doesn't mean you have to agree. What does the universe know anyway? It's all the way up there!"

"I'm not going to reject my soulmate, Sokka. No matter what."

"No matter what? Are you sure about that? Like 100% super sure?"

"I'm the Avatar. If the universe matches my soul to someone then I trust it."

Aang's soulmark precisely covers the scar on his back. There are light blue, lightning-like streaks while the heavier scar tissue is covered by a circle of blue flames.

Sometimes Aang questions the universe.


	3. Chapter 3

Azula won the Agni Kai. 

She wants history to remember that even in the midst of a mental breakdown she didn’t fail her nation. 

That she was the perfect daughter.

There are rumors that she’s crazy, but she’s not. She conquered Ba Sing Se, killed the Avatar (Azula is 100% sure he was dead for at least a second before being revived by some Avatar nonsense), and captured The Dragon of the West only to be discarded by her father whose brilliant plan culminated into using Sozin’s Comet to burn everything. 

Really, how was she supposed to react?

She doesn’t voice this of course; it wouldn’t work to her advantage. Azula keeps her mouth shut and her ears open. 

She hears the Avatar has won.  _ She’d be disappointed if he hadn’t. Truly skilled benders know there’s more to bending than brute force. A lesson that has evaded both her father & brother.  _

She hears that Fire Lord Iroh has declared a National Tea Day.  _ Typical. _

And that Zuko will take the throne once he comes of age and has proven himself worthy of the honor.  _ Yawn. _

She hears that Prince Zuko wishes her a speedy recovery.  _ Liar. _

She hears the Avatar is coming to visit.

Azula has done her best to hide her soulmark. It has been covered by a straitjacket for the majority of her stay. To the best of her knowledge, no one has seen her soulmark, and she has no one to tell. If the Avatar is visiting then that means his soulmark has appeared and is as recognizable as her own. 

It is not a conversation she wants to have, so Azula leaves before he arrives. 

Escape is easy with airbending.


	4. Chapter 4

When Aang accidentally creates blue flames, he chalks it up to being the Avatar, master of all four elements. Then Katara brings up double bending. 

Double benders, as they’re called, are soulmates who share bending abilities. They are so rare that they were considered a myth 100 years ago, and are largely still considered to be one by many today. 

Katara doesn’t think it’s a myth. Sokka points out that Azula could have potentially escaped with airbending. 

Potentially.

Then Zuko asks if double bending would mean Azula shares airbending with Aang or if she shares all of the elements he can bend, and Aang doesn’t have an answer. Azula’s escape has gone from unfortunate to potentially world changing. 

Potentially.

Aang decides to contact his past lives via Avatar state to double check that there isn’t some spiritual double bending loophole that would allow Azula to bend all four elements. 

Aang learns he is the first and only double bending Avatar.

Aang can now both redirect and shoot lightning, which is pretty cool, but he has noticed that he can redirect lightning better than Zuko; and he wonders whether that’s because he’s the Avatar or because somewhere, somehow, Azula has learned to redirect lightning. 

Aang can also make his fire blue. He demonstrates this in a fireworks show to his friends. They applaud at all the right times, but Aang notices the fear in their eyes, so he sticks to regular fire. Of course, they notice he noticed, so his friends gather one day to tell him that it’s okay if he uses the blue flames and that if Azula can benefit from airbending then he can benefit from having a flame that burns hotter. Aang thanks his friends, but he still avoids the blue.

It’s not because he’s scared of her (Aang will freely admit he’s scared of Azula. Even her father didn’t make his heart race as much), but because the blue flames remind him of the soulmark scar mark on his back.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say or what he’ll do when they find her. No one knows if Azula has gained the powers of an Avatar, but Aang is the only one who questions whether she would use them.


	5. Chapter 5

The world is ending. That is unsurprising. 

The Avatar has been called to save it. Still unsurprising. 

Azula is fighting on their side. Surprising? Perhaps to idiots like Zuzu but not to Azula. She knew her  former ex -friends would have roped her into helping. Ty Lee by crying (how she figured out Azula can’t stand women crying is a mystery) and Mai by being one of the few people who shares Azula’s morbid sense of humor. Mai would say something like, “either help us not die or kill us faster,” and Azula would then graciously give in. 

There is nothing gracious about the world ending. 

Azula would rather rule the world than destroy it.  _ Although, she never really wanted to rule the world in the first place. Too many idiots to manage. But no one ever asked Azula what she wanted, not even herself. _

Right now, Azula would settle for not dying. If that meant technically fighting for the Avatar, then so be it. It’s unsurprising that she would choose a reluctant alliance over death. 

What’s surprising is who Azula is currently fighting side by side with; her fuddy duddy Uncle. 

“Azula! Can you reach that rooftop?”

_ It was easy to forgive her friends. It is harder to forgive those who believe they’ve done nothing wrong. _

Azula doesn’t look at the rooftop. She knows which one he’s referring to, all the others have been destroyed, and she knows she can reach it easily with or without airbending. It is a much better use of a spare second to firebend and analyze her Uncle’s words. 

“The Dragon of the West’s only strategy is to retreat. How disappointingly predictable.”

“We cannot win this fight.”

**_Azula-always-lies-Azula-always-lies-Azula-always-lies_ **

Azula desperately wishes she has the time to look at her Uncle’s face because it doesn’t make sense.

**_She’s-crazy-and-she-needs-to-go-down-She’s-crazy-and-she-needs-to-go-down-She’s-crazy-and-she-needs-to-go-down_ **

Azula can make it to the rooftop. Uncle Iroh cannot. 

“Maybe you cannot—”

_ She twists the knife in deeper. How  _ dare _ he pretend to care about her now. _

“— but I am not Lu Ten.”

The oxygen around them is sucked out as the air heats up. Azula smirks.

_ Good. Perhaps he’ll fight better angry.  _

Uncle Iroh twists and Azula spares a glimpse at his face. She regrets it, not because of the resulting glancing blow she takes to the shoulder, but because when angry, Uncle Iroh’s eyes match her own far more than her father’s ever did. 

“I do have another strategy. One that I thought was too risky and cruel.”

“Will it take them all out?”

“Do you share bending with the Avatar?”

Azula answers by adding a gust of air to her leg sweep. Distantly, the last rooftop crumbles. 

“We found your mother,” says Uncle Iroh, and his words begin to drown as Azula’s head roars and her eyes glow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did i add plot


	6. Chapter 6

Azula has joined Team Avatar because:

  1. She can access the Avatar state and that means it’s practically Aang’s duty to monitor her and make sure she doesn’t use it for evil. 
  2. She saved Iroh, so Zuko is on board with her joining, and he out of everyone has the most reasons to object.
  3. If they’re fighting to save the world, Aang would much rather fight with Azula than fight against Azula.



That doesn’t make the sky bison ride any less awkward. The Avatar may be the master of all four elements, but Aang can attest that it does not make him a master of conversation. He got as far as “So, we’re soulmates…” before Azula shot him a look that made him feel like he stepped back into the iceberg. He promptly took Appa’s reins and prepared to stay silent the entire trip. 

Not everyone got the memo. 

“Azula,” says Zuko, apparently immune to being iceberged. “Thank you for saving Uncle.”

Aang holds his breath. He can feel the air thin as everyone around him does the same.

“You’re welcome, Zuko.”

“Since when did you call him Zuko?” Aang blurts out before he can help himself.

The responding glare makes him feel like an iceberg whose insides are on fire, but he’s still kinda hoping for an answer. Aang has only heard Azula call him “Zuzu,” and it didn’t seem like a glare worthy question. Plus, they’re soulmates. Aang’s not expecting a miracle, but if Azula can politely answer Zuko then she can at least respond to him, right?

No such luck.

“Hey, he asked you a question. Don’t ignore him!” says Katara, and while normally Aang would have butterflies in his stomach from Katara defending him, the way Azula smirks has him looking for lightning on a sunny day.

“Zu **ko**. How’s Mai?”

Katara and Zuko stiffen. Aang doesn’t need to be the Avatar to see a fight is going to break out, but he does need to stop it.

“Azula,” _thinkthinkthink_ “Which do you like better, airbending or firebending?”

“Fire.”

Yes! Crisis averted! Aang sends Katara and Zuko a look that’s a mixture of _please, please, please, let this go without a fight_ and _I’m the Avatar, please don’t start a fight_ before Azula’s words catch up to him. 

“Really? Firebending?” asks Aang, trying not to sound miffed.

“It is the superior element.”

“But airbending’s so much more versatile!”

Azula makes a dismissive gesture. “Firebending is best for conquering your foes. Any other use of bending is less relevant.”

“You can fly with airbending,” protests Aang.

“You can fly with firebending as well and, if we’re including tools, a Fire Nation airship is superior to an air glider.”

“Air gliders have more maneuverability,” points out Aang, “andI don’t need tools to climb up vertical surfaces.”

“And I can propel myself over them or simply blast my way through. Face it, firebending is superior.”

“You can make an air scooter…” starts Aang, but then he stops as realization hits him. 

“I have no need to-” 

“You can play airbender games!”

“…I can what?”


	7. Chapter 7

It was nice of the Avatar to offer to teach her airbending. His motives may have been questionable (Azula can’t remember playing a game without doing everything to win but she’d willingly lose at the “air scooter championship” if only for peace of mind), but it was still nice of him to offer.

Azula had made fixes to the Avatar's firebending form in return, _really_ ~~_Zuzu_~~ _Zuko, when will you master the basics,_ but the changes she made for him were small in comparison to teaching her a century forgotten bending style. 

It was starting to feel like pity.

So when Azula saw his eyes linger on the marks on her hands, she had thought nothing of showing him the full mark except that it would make them even.

In hindsight, disrobing without warning had been less than wise. If the red on his face was anything to go by, Air Nomads must not see a lot of shirtless women. Still, it’s not as though she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

The mark was only on her arms and across her shoulders, the most risque part was her neck, so she didn’t see any reason not to let the Avatar touch her mark. Especially when he pointed out that hers didn’t appear to follow her chi path and was more of a decorative marking along her bones.

The chances of her chi path changing was a possibility that verged from the improbable to the impossible. Azula would have been the first to know if her chi path had changed, after all, but when the Avatar offered to check she was far too amused to decline.

Firebenders can draw heat along their chi path. If her chi path has changed, which she sincerely doubted it had, the Avatar would be able to tell by pressing his fingers and feeling the temperature of her body.

Of course, he would only feel around her mark. Which, again, was only on her arms and across her shoulders.

It was innocent. 

That still didn’t stop the waterbender from screaming.


	8. Chapter 8

“Sokka, can I ask you about soulmates?”

Sokka slowly lowers his fishing rod. He glances up at Aang then quickly averts his gaze as he rubs the back of his neck. “Erm. Why don’t you ask Zuko? He also has a soulmate and plus Azula’s his sister so…”

Aang doesn’t want to ask Zuko. Zuko is his friend, but some things still take time to heal.

“You’re the only one here with two soulmates,” says Aang.

Sokka frowns and rubs his wrist.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Sokka waves off his apology. “I am the soulmate expert. Go ahead and ask. I shall try to dispense some of my immense wisdom.”

Aang bows. “Oh, mighty soul guru. What was meeting your soulmate like?”

Sokka doesn’t respond right away.

When Aang looks up from his bow, Sokka turns and shows him the inside of his wrist.

Aang has seen the names on Sokka’s wrist before, but never this close.

There are two names written on Sokka’s wrist: ‘Suki’ written in black cursive, and above it ‘Yue’ written in white and crossed out with a curved black line.

“When I first met Yue, I didn’t know she was my soulmate,” says Sokka, “but I remember thinking to myself that she must be the one. Meeting her felt like a fairy tale.”

“Who did you love more?" asks Aang, "Yue or Suki?”

Sokka groans. “Way to ask the easy questions!”

“Sorry! It’s just, I’ve never heard you talk about soulmates. Ever. You even call Suki your girlfriend instead of your soulmate.”

“That’s more of a Southern Water Tribe cultural thing. A lot of people lost their soulmate to the Fire Nation. Those with soulmarks like yours only have one, and those with name soulmarks like mine…even if they had multiple soulmates…some people lost everything,” Sokka shrugs. “It became a force of habit not to talk about soulmate stuff.”

“Oh…" Aang shifts his weight. "I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable—”

“You’re not! I’m a big boy, Aang. If there’s a conversation I don’t want to have then I’ll speak up. And to answer your question,” adds Sokka, “I love Suki more.”

“You do?” Aang furrows his brow. “ But you said meeting Yue was like a fairy tale?”

“Fairy tales end. My love for Suki won’t,” Sokka rubs his neck. “That sounded kinda harsh, didn’t it? What I mean is, I’ve known Suki longer. Our love is deeper.”

“Deeper?”

“There are different levels of love. It’s like when you’re swimming and everything looks the same on the surface but then you dive and can feel a difference.”

Aang nods, but he doesn’t fully understand.

Silence hangs in the air between them, heavy and palpable. Sokka is the first to shake away his thoughts and looks sidelong at Aang, “Hey Aang, since we’re having a heart to heart after all, mind if I ask you a question about Azula?”

“Um, our first meeting wasn’t like a fairy tale.”

“No, not that— wait. You still view her as your soulmate?”

“Well, yeah, she kinda has my bending.”

“No, I mean, you don’t want to switch? You don’t wish she wasn’t your soulmate?”

Aang tries not to think about Katara and reasons, “If Azula wasn’t my soulmate then she wouldn’t have been able to earthbend that boulder, and you and Zuko would have been squished. I don’t think anyone else would have learned eathbending as fast, so, no, I don’t want to switch soulmates.”

“I do appreciate being not squished,” agrees Sokka, “but is that the only reason? You’re not— my sister mentioned something about you guys getting all touchy?”

“Hm? Oh yeah I guess we were.”

Sokka is stunned into silence, a rare occurrence for him, so Aang continues.

“Azula’s soulmark doesn’t follow her chi path like an airbender tattoo would, and I was wondering if that meant her chi path had changed to match. Turns out it was only a design difference, but I was touching along her soulmark to make sure—”

“Phew!”


	9. Chapter 9

“The Fire Nation took my mother away. I won’t lose anyone else. If you dare hurt Aang—”

Azula tunes her out. She would much rather be subjected to Beifong’s crudeness than to the waterbender’s theatrics. 

“—Are you even listening to me?”

“No,” replies Azula, and she smirks when the waterbender’s face turns an interesting shade of purple.

“I don’t know why the others let you join us. We should’ve thrown you into prison!”

“Well,” Azula says slowly, knowing that the calmness of her voice will only anger the waterbender further, "there was no prison that could hold me even before I gained the Avatar’s bending abilities…Oh! And you need me to help prevent the world from ending. Can’t forget about that.”

“Is that all he is to you? Bending abilities?”

Azula tsks. “And here I thought you were the smart one. Of course that’s all he is to me.”

“But I saw you two…”

Azula grits her teeth. “A misunderstanding.”

The waterbender crosses her arms. “Why did you join us in the first place if it wasn’t for your soulmate?”

“I don’t want to die, waterbender. In case it’s escaped your notice, I live in this world as well.” 

“Your father doesn’t share those concerns. Are you saying you don’t want to rule the world with him? You expect us to believe that?”

“I don’t want to rule a wasteland.” Azula brings her hand up to inspect her nails, drawing attention to her soulmark. “Besides, it doesn’t matter what I want. These markings make me no better than the Avatar in my father’s eyes, and he will sooner kill me than allow a threat to his throne. He was never one for sharing the spotlight.”

“But you can’t choose your soulmate...”

“Do you think that matters?”

The waterbender frowns and plays with her hair. Azula can’t quite tell what she’s thinking so she waits. 

“The Fire Nation took my mother away—”

_ Oh here we go again. _

“— but that wasn’t your fault…and it wasn’t mine either. I’m so—”

“Stop,” Azula sneers. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity! It’s empathy—”

“I don’t need that either. We have a common goal, that’s it, and after that goal is completed I will personally end you and your friends.”

Watery eyes turn to ice. Azula is proud to note that there is not a shred of pity remaining in the glare directed her way.

“No you won’t,” vows the waterbender, “Aang will stop you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved

It starts with an argument

Azula thinks the Air Nomads must have lethal airbending forms. 

Aang knows she’s wrong. While airbending can be used to kill, as can any other element, the Air Nomads valued life and wouldn’t have developed any forms prioritizing killing over incapacitating. 

He tells Azula as much, but she doesn’t take him at face value.

Him. The last airbender.

And, yeah, he agrees that being a firebender doesn’t grant one knowledge of all firebending techniques, but the Air Nomads were known pacifists. 

Azula counters with records in Fire Nation history of brutal airbender attacks and claims it proves that there were outlier airbenders who weren’t swayed by the silly ideals of pacifism. 

Aang tells her that a lot of history has been altered by the Fire Nation. He would have told her about his time as Kuzon, but his friends shushed him and warned against telling the enemy secrets. Aang personally thinks they’re being ridiculous. For starters, Azula is technically on their side now, and she’s his soulmate. Plus, it wasn’t much of a secret in the first place, and some secret identities are worth revealing if it’s in defense of his entire element. 

Aang huffs. His friends don’t shush him again. Azula starts quizzing him on airbender history.

Him. The last airbender.

He answers all her questions correctly, of course, and he’s feeling pretty proud of himself. Then Azula switches to battle specific questions and, too late, Aang realizes the trap she has sprung. 

Aang’s answers to her second set of questions are nowhere near as detailed as the first because Aang was twelve when he left, and he didn’t spend that much time learning about skirmishes in Air Nomad history. 

Azula thinks this means she’s right, but while Aang may not have memorized historical battles, all his information is first hand, so there. Aang may have stuck out his tongue at this point, but he attests that it was not childish of him to do so because he is over a century old.

They go back and forth. Aang won’t budge because he’s the last airbender and this is about the representation of his people. Azula won’t budge because apparently the only thing she shares with her brother’s personality is sheer stubbornness. 

At some point someone (Aang’s not sure if it was Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko, or all of them at the same time. He was a bit preoccupied with defending his entire element by himself.) screams at them to either find some proof or shut up. 

Aang and Azula pause. 

* * *

“Aang, are you sure about this?” asks Katara. Her hand is on his shoulder and while normally that would make him feel better, the ‘I love you’ scribbled on her arm makes his gut sink. 

“I’ll be fine, Katara. You guys go find information on the shrine; Azula and I will explore these Air Ruins.”

Katara bites her lip. “What if she attacks you?”

“Why, I’ll be on my best behavior,” drawls Azula, “but if you’re that worried about the Avatar not being able to hold his own against me...we don’t have to go at all if he admits he’s wrong.”

Katara tugs him further away from the others and pointedly whispers, “I told you what she said.”

“I know, but I think she was lying,” says Aang. He’s about to remind Katara about the power of forgiveness when she asks if he’s upset that she’s Zuko’s soulmate; and that’s not a conversation Aang wants to have. Not now when the others are watching. Maybe not ever. So Aang puts on his best smile and assures her that he’s fine.

“…and you’ll be fine going alone with her? You’ll be careful?” asks Katara.

“Of course,” Aang swallows, “I’m the Avatar.”

* * *

Aang winces as Azula trails sparks along her hands. 

“Careful, those walls are over a century old.”

Azula doesn’t respond but she does leave the walls alone. Progress. 

“Thank you, Azula.”

“How are you going to take revenge?”

One step forward. Two steps back. 

“Revenge?” asks Aang and tries not to tense up when she stares at him like he’s a bug on a rock underneath a very hot sun. 

“Revenge,” Azula enunciates slowly. She raises her hands and creates a ball of fire in one hand, and a ball of air in the other. “The Avatar maintains balance, but the Fire Nation has already expanded and destroyed the Air Nomads.” She increases the fire in her hand while decreasing the ball of air. “Only one airbender remains while there is a nation of firebenders.” She lets the air vanish and holds the fire out to Aang. “You must want to make it even.” The fire goes out. 

“No I don’t,” says Aang, his voice calm and unwavering despite the way his heart is pounding (Azula always was good at making his heart jump and his legs run). “The Air Nomads prided themselves on freedom and forgiveness.”

Azula crosses her arms. “You cannot be serious. How could you possibly forgive genocide?”

Aang smiles. “I’m not saying it was easy. I started with seeing people as individuals instead of as firebenders. Then I forgave the individuals and eventually the Nation. How did you forgive Mai and Ty Lee?”

“That was different,” snaps Azula, “I had to forgive them in order to escape.”

“Escape what?”

Azula hesitates. There’s a harrowing in her eyes, and suddenly the picture paints itself.

_ You tried to join your father first, didn’t you? _

But Aang doesn’t ask and Azula doesn’t answer. The silence stretches on.

Azula is staring at something past Aang. Her lips are moving, mouthing words, leaving a whisper in the wind “you’re not real” that he wasn’t supposed to hear. 

Aang has to say something. He has to. But Azula questions him...

If he advises her as the Avatar, she’ll pick and prod him with her words and discover that Gyatso is nothing like Ozai, and that Aang doesn’t have all the answers. 

But he can’t stay silent. He has to try. He knows she likes bending...

“Let me show you an airbending technique,” offers Aang. Her lips stop moving. He slinks slowly down onto the grass and goes into a meditative pose. When Azula doesn’t follow, he adds, “It’s very difficult.” The grass sinks down next to him and Aang nearly sighs in relief. He can do this. They’ll make a space in between hatred and toleration. 

“Now you breathe in slowly,” Aang demonstrates, “then out.”

Azula releases a torrent of flames from her mouth and states, “This is a firebending technique to draw fire from your core.” 

She’s back. Aang tries to hide the relief in his voice when he explains,“It’s also an airbending technique. Except, instead of your core you have to draw from your surroundings.” 

“Breathing,” Azula deadpans. 

“No, not quite. You have to draw in your negative emotions and expel positive ones.”

Aang isn’t looking at Azula, but he can feel the look she’s sending him. He takes a look at their surroundings and tries a different approach. 

“See that willow tree? It bends in the wind, and that allows it to survive storms that fell oak trees. You can’t bend unless you acknowledge what’s pushing you. You need to recognize the wind physically and spiritually. Breathe in your negative emotions and let them go. Bend like the willow tree.”

“What if you have too many negative emotions?” asks Azula. Her eyes are closed. 

“Try to put them into one word. Into how they make you feel.”

“You first.”

Aang breathes in. He thinks about how he liked Katara first. How he fought for her when Zuko fought against. How it didn’t matter in the end. He breathes out and says, “Inadequate.” 

He thinks Azula will whisper her word, but she breathes out the word, “Alone,” as though she was commenting on nothing more than the weather.She then turns to him and asks, “How do you make it positive?”

“By making it less bad. When you acknowledge the pain, it hurts less. Eventually it won’t hurt at all.” He hopes.

“Thank you,” Azula says while getting up, and Aang smiles in response. 

* * *

“I see evidence of poor design choices not of any airbending forms. Where did you train?”

“In the courtyard, I suppose, although we didn’t really ‘train.’ We played. We let the air flow through us instead of controlling it.” 

“My lower judgment of your airbending notwithstanding, we agreed beforehand that lack of evidence meant I’m right.”

“How is this lack of evidence? We’re so peaceful we don’t have a training room.” Aang gestures to the surrounding courtyard to further convey his point. “Also, ‘lower judgment’?” 

“You slacked off in the courtyard instead of training,” declares Azula, “perhaps you are actually a mediocre airbender in comparison to your peers.”

“Nah, if I was mediocre I wouldn’t have these tattoos. They’re only given to those who’ve mastered airbending.”

Their eyes both drift to the blue markings on Azula.

“I see,” says Azula after a beat, “but mastery requires forms. There must be some place where you kept instructions?”

Aang rubs his neck. There’s an awkwardness in the air. “There was a buildings only adults were allowed in. That could be it.”

* * *

Air Nomads do not follow traditional family units. The children are raised as a community. Everyone is their Mother and Father.

There are places where only adult Air Nomads were allowed entry, regardless of airbending mastery.

Aang didn’t realize the two things were related. Until now.

He is slowly recovering from the loss of his childhood innocence, as well as forming a new, slightly more gross view on the adults in his life when he hears it: a laugh. Not a malicious one, but a full on cheek-hurting, voice-losing, joyous laugh, and Aang is staring because he didn’t think Azula could laugh like that. 

“You were right, Avatar,” she says, breathless, “airbending is more versatile.”


	11. Chapter 11

“How come Azula never steers?” complains the nonbender. 

“You want me to control the beast? The one that’s preventing you from plummeting to your death?” asks Azula, smirking when the nonbender shudders.

“I’d rather let Toph ste—ow!”

The nonbender rubs his shoulder and glares at Beifong. 

“Actually, Sokka, I think you make a good point,” says the Avatar.

Everyone looks to the Avatar in various measures of confusion and disbelief, Azula included. 

“Azula can airbend, and sky bison are a staple of airbenders,” adds the Avatar. He directs a “Aren’t you buddy?” to the beast and actually starts petting it.

“You must be joking,” says Azula, “I’m not an airbender.”

“It’s only fair that you pull your own weight and steer like everyone else — minus Toph,” says the waterbender, who Azula is certain was in disagreement with the Avatar until Azula voiced her own disapproval. 

“He won’t bite,” claims the Avatar while handing her the reins.

The beast grumbles in disapproval, and Azula silently agrees with it. The Avatar soothingly says, “It’s okay, Appa. She’s on our side now.”

Well, she may as well make the waterbender regret her decision.

“Can you hold the reins with me?” asks Azula, and she sits just a bit too close.

“Sure!”

Too easy. Although, now she was stuck with tedious labor. 

“Does this beast have any battle capabilities? Any signals besides left, right, down, and,” Azula infects as much disdain as she can into her voice, “’yip-yip’?”

The Avatar begins to prattle about a story of the beast in battle, which Azula admittedly finds herself getting invested in. She asks a few questions here and there to gather intel, of course. The Avatar goes on to tell her other stories about the beast, ones that are less battle heavy and more personal. 

_ The beast would make a good hostage if talking about it makes him smile this much. _

The Avatar finishes telling her about the day they bonded when Azula asks, “Are you sure there’s only one of them left?”

“I’d think we’d notice a bunch of sky bison flying around,” says Zu ~~ zu ~~ Zuko and oh does  ~~ her brother ~~ he love setting himself up. 

“But Zuko,” Azula says in her innocent voice, the one that never fails to put him on edge, “if sky bison are so easy to find, how ever did the Avatar manage to hide from you?”

~~Zuko Zuzu~~ Zuko grumbles while the others hide their snickers. 

Turning back to the Avatar, Azula adds, “There are places where sky bison could still roam. In fact, we’re approaching one now. I propose we stop and search.”

“That’s a great idea!” exclaims the Avatar.

“I don’t know Aang,” says the waterbender, “we don’t really have the time for it.”

The Avatar’s shoulders slump. 

“If I had time to capture Ba Sing Se then we have time now,” snaps Azula. She reaches a hand out to pet the beast who gives a warning growl in response. “Besides,” she adds, “don’t you want to find him a mate?”

_ The beast is as easy to manipulate as the rest of the group _ , thinks Azula as it rockets to their destination. She considers voicing this to the Avatar, but he would likely take it as a compliment.


	12. Chapter 12

_ The true weakness of the Avatar is being lost in a dark tunnel with a pretty girl. _

Aang would voice this thought aloud, but he’s pretty sure Azula still blames him for not knowing the ground would collapse (when he had asked how he was supposed to know, Azula had replied with ‘you’re the Avatar’ which is pretty unfair if you ask Aang) and trap them in an underground tunnel.

He could earthbend them out, but he’s not sure if Azula blames him to the point of not talking to him or to the point of murdering him when he’s too focused on earthbending to defend himself. He had asked Azula half an hour ago why she didn’t just earthbend them out of here, and the resulting glare made him eighty percent sure she blamed him to the point of murder.

So they walk through the tunnel in silence. 

Aang sighs. Zuko had made it look so simple! One field trip and boom! Instant friendship or, at the very least, less hostility. Who knew exploring the surroundings would be so dangerous?

“Why did you take me here?” asks Azula.

“I didn’t know the ground would collapse!”

“You could have taken anyone scouting with you, and yet you took me and me alone. Why?”

Aang gulps. Azula analyzes words like a predator analyzes prey. Verbally sparring with her is less like playing checkers against chess and more like trying to blow away a tornado with a butterfly. Like trying to topple a mountain with a pebble. Like a candle trying to outshine the sun. Like a drizzle against a hurricane.

“You’re stalling,” states Azula.

Well, they do say honesty is the best policy. 

“Um, I noticed you were getting along with Toph.” Aang winces. He knows he hasn’t answered the question, but if the exit is around this corner then he won’t have to. 

Azula stops walking. 

They are just far enough away to where Aang can see the corner but he can’t reach it without making it obvious that he is trying to run away from the conversation. 

Azula holds a hand to her chin as though she is deep in thought. Aang is pretty sure she’s mocking him. 

“Beifong and I are both strong benders born into noble families. It makes sense that we would bond over our similarities. That doesn’t answer my question,” says Azula. 

“We have similarities…” Aang avoids the word ‘soulmate’, an unspoken rule between them, “I wanted us to get along too.”

Azula stares at him like he just told the setup to a bad joke and she is awaiting the inevitably disappointing punchline. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“We are already working towards the same goal, there’s no reason for us to get along any further. Especially when you take into account our history.” Azula smiles a cold smile. “Did you think I would set aside my loyalty to my nation for something as frivolous as friendship?”

“I told you, I don’t want revenge on the Fire Nation.”

“You want to claim ignorance? That you backed Zuko without knowing he was once set to inherit the throne? Even if that was pathetically true, you must now know that my puppet of a prince brother will not honor his nation above the Avatar.”

“Zuko made his own choices. He was willing to teach me firebending despite the risks—”

“And you reward such willingness to assist the Avatar. Going against one's nation is no small feat, and it’s not easy to find such defectors in the Fire Nation. Our nation is one that doesn’t require an Avatar. Unlike the other nations, who are so inferior that they had to call upon the Avatar to stop us because they were unable to do so themselves. The cowards.”

“The Avatar maintains balance,” Aang says calmly, “and balance between the nations makes everyone stronger. There is no balance when one nation declares superiority. We’re equals. Saving the world is in every nation’s best interest—”

“Which is why I’m here, but that’s not enough for you, is it? You hate that the Fire Nation doesn’t want an Avatar. You need people to like you—”

_ Your father doesn’t like me. _

“Why didn’t you kill your father?”

Azula’s eyes gleam a brilliant gold. “The pacifist asking why I didn’t commit patricide? I didn’t know the Avatar had such a bite. You certainly keep things interesting.”

“If you wanted to be Fire Lord then you would have taken the throne by any means necessary.” Aang says quietly. He’s watching her. Looking for any cracks, anything at all that will give him insight into what she’s thinking. 

Azula dims the fire in her hand until the gold of her eyes is hidden by shadows and Aang can’t see anything at all.

“Very well, I shall reward you with an honest answer. The reason I never took the throne from my father…is because I’ve been madly in love with you this entire time. I cherished my time hunting you far too much to give it up for some silly throne. I even struck you with lightning as a parting gift.”

Unamused, Aang stares back at Azula, searching for her eyes in the dim light.

“Oh, come now, that was funny.”

With that remark, Azula makes to leave, but this time Aang is the one holding her back. Full lips form a disinterested frown at the hand clasped around her arm, but Aang still can’t see her eyes. He cups a free hand above her flames and adds his own; red mixing in with blue. “We’re soulmates. Doesn’t that mean something to you?” He watches the shadows dance across her eyes— _ like seeing a sunrise through a storm _ — and waits for a response.

“Aside from the double bending? No.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you liked/disliked about the chapter. This chapter and the next one were added in and written later so there's more room for tweaking.

Azula casts a disapproving gaze over the shabby houses and poorly disguised poverty. The village had such little significance that the overnight disappearance of its entire population had caused barely a stir in the local economy. The Avatar should have ignored it in favor of the bigger picture, but he was a genuine bleeding heart. How unfortunate. 

Beifong snaps her out of her musings. “You gonna help me or what, Princess?”

They put the blind earthbender in charge of watching her. Hah. One empty village and they’ve forgotten she’s dangerous. 

“Is your earthbending failing you?”

“No, it’s this stupid spirit stuff.” 

“Of course it is,” says Azula with obvious sarcasm. 

“Shut up and look,” Beifong points to a set of indentations in the ground. “Can your eyes see anything that I couldn’t sense the last fifty times?”

“My eyes see another regular set of footprints and an enormous waste of time.”

“Heh. Try convincing Twinkle Toes that,” Beifong kicks at the dirt. “All these footprints lead to the river and then disappear. If it was a spirit then it somehow got everyone to follow it willingly. There aren’t any drag marks.”

“Perhaps the rumors about a malevolent spirit are false and we’re actually dealing with a waterbender. You should inform the Avatar. I’ll check to see if any of the victims left a note before they went swimming.” 

Beifong rides away on a wave of earth. _Too easy._

The village may be insignificant, but it’s not isolated. Azula makes her way to the now unguarded mail room.

Scrolls and papers lay haphazardly on various surfaces with little rhyme or reason. Azula has to rummage through the piles to find what she’s looking for: an unofficial royal decree. Trust her father to act as though he was never overthrown. Azula unravels the scroll and quickly bathes it in blue. The drawing of her face disappearing in seconds. 

Evidently, word of her traveling with the Avatar has reached her father. She feels nothing. 

Without a definite grip on the throne, her wanted poster is more of a statement than anything. The Fire Nation forces are too divided to be a threat, and most would be reluctant to go after someone with her titles. Although, perhaps her father is signaling to the glory hungry that whoever kills her will be his successor. Loyalty over blood. Not that she wasn’t loyal. It doesn’t matter. She feels nothing. 

_She’s here._

Azula knows better than to entertain her. The mail room is practically smothered with kindling, and it’s time for her to teach the peasants a lesson in the importance of organization. Azula steps back and, ignoring the chidings from her mother, launches one burst of blue after another. One for every ‘royal’ decree she imagines were sent, read, and passed on for all to see her disgrace. The room lights up quick. Azula watches it burn and forces herself to smile. 

_When papers are properly put away then your building doesn’t burn as fast, peasants. Lesson learned._

“Why did you do that?” whispers her mother.

_No, she’s not here. She doesn’t exist. Get that through your head._

Azula focuses on anything but her mother, and, perhaps because his actions are forefront in her mind, Azula ends up thinking of a long ago conversation. 

_There was a softness around his mouth that had made Azula dig her fingernails into her skin and pull. He wasn’t supposed to miss her._

_“You banished her,” Azula had reminded him because her father was supposed to be too strong to mourn._

_There is blame in his eyes that he would never voice. “I had to,” he said._

_If Azula had never said anything to Zuzu, if she hadn’t felt the need to be such a monster, then Ursa never would have left. They would have been the perfect family._

“I love you, Azula.” 

* * *

“Azula! Where were you? Why was there smoke?” shouts Zuko upon her return.

“Unfinished business. Don’t worry, no one died. Yet.” 

Zuko seethes. “We’re supposed to be helping the village! Not burning it down!”

Azula doesn’t look at her.

“Are you hurt?” asks the Avatar.

“The fire is out.”

“Okay…well, the plan is for me to project my spirit and sees what’s going on from there...”

“I believe in you Aang,” says the waterbender. Starting a chain of well wishes. Azula doesn’t deign to add any of her own. 

Her mother frowns.

Not mother. Hallucination. 

“Play nice, Azula. Why can’t you be more like your brother?” scolds the hallucination. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out. 

Azula looks at her oh so beloved brother. “What did father give mother on their third anniversary?”

Zuko blinks slowly. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

“Neither do I,” says Azula with a tight smile.

“If I only know what you know,” says the fading hallucination, “then you must know that I love you. That I’ve always loved you.”

 _Azula always lies,_ thinks Azula spitefully, _especially to herself._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got an unpaid editor also known as a beta reader!!! Some of the earlier chapters have been edited thanks to shipaycon on FFN. Not all the chapter have been edited yet including this one due to a hurricane and the usual bullfuckery of 2020.

Aang centers himself until he can feel the gentle pull of the spirit world. He opens his eyes and sees an equally translucent Azula floating in the physical world. _Huh._

“That’s new.”

Azula’s eyes dart around before narrowing in on him, “Stop staring and put an end to this nonsense!”

Aang looks down and spots a collapsed body. “Are you…dead?” he asks hesitantly.

Azula’s glare doesn’t lose any heat despite being in spirit form. “No,” she says coldly.

Aang gently floats to the ground and tilts his head. “Are you sure? You’re facedown.”

“I felt the glow. This,” Azula gestures at her spirit form, “is _your_ fault.”

“My fault? Oh! You mean it’s a double bending thing?”

Azula nods. “How do you return to physical form?”

“I sort of sink back into my body like it’s a spirit sponge.”

Azula stares at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“I’ve never had to explain it to someone before,” defends Aang.

“…and how do you move,” asks Azula in a strangled voice.

“The same way you do in the real world.”

“I don’t fly in the real world!”

“Oh,” Aang thinks for a bit. “Try imagining gravity?”

Azula huffs and closes her eyes. A moment later a now singular Azula is rubbing her face and glaring at him.

Aang winces. Maybe her glare _did_ lose heat. He gives a quick “Sorry!” and heads towards the river.

* * *

Aang has a gut feeling that the disappearances are related to a spirit. The unnatural stillness of the river only accentuates the feeling.

He calls out to the river, “Hello? Spirit? I’m the Avatar. I’ve come to bring peace between our worlds.”

The water ripples in reply.

Aang steps into the river. It’s a strange feeling, stepping into water as a spirit. He can feel the tug of water, can see the small waves formed by his steps, but the telltale feeling of water against skin remains a memory. He sees a shadow spread across the river, and he looks up. The sky has turned dark. That’s also new.

This day is full of surprises, but Aang has a feeling Azula isn’t the reason why the sky has changed from light blue to murky mulberry.

Aang steps out of the river. The sky returns to normal.

“What happened?” he asks, “Did the village hurt you?”

Not even a ripple this time.

Aang takes a moment to steady himself and steps back into the water.

He tries again. “How can I help?”

The water murmurs in response. The slow tug turning into a soft current.

Aang wades deeper into the water until half floating half treading. Even as a spirit, the water somehow weighs him down. It’s a constant downward pull but Aang pays the extra weight little heed because, in this form, his arms will never strain against the weight.

He shouts, “What did you do with the people?”

The gurgles of the river blend and rumble into an almost whisper of a voice. Aang cups a hand over his ear, straining to hear a reply, when the river suddenly goes silent and Aang looks down and sees the water has turned the same color as the sky. Too late, he realizes, too late that he is now swimming in blood.

**_Thank you, Aang_ **

_He’s back at the air temple with the other airbenders. They stare at him, silent, judging, as his body moves against his own accord towards the window. Aang tries to speak. There’s blood in his mouth._

**_Thank you, Aang_ **

_It’s dark and his stomach hurts. There’s cold stone against his back and straw in his mouth. His eyes adjust and he sees Smellerbee and Longshot crying over him, he sees himself leave the room. He coughs a dying man’s cough, breathless and desperate and full of blood._

**_Thank you, Aang_ **

_He’s kneeling. There are hands on his face. Aang can’t see but he can hear. He hears the voices of his past lives say as one, “Thank you, Aang”, and then his insides begin to burn. He tries to scream, but no sound comes out, only light, and he’s drowning in the sensation. “Thank you for your mercy,” they say, and Aang feels himself slip away._

_You’re welcome_

…

..

.

..

…

* * *

_I hide_

_in the belly_

_of the beast_

_and wait_

_for God_

_to return_

_from His visit_

_to the holy land._

**_Sometimes we suffer_ **

**_more than we_ **

**_can bear._ **

…

..

.

..

…

_God slits_

_the throat_

_of the beast_

_and frees me_

_from the darkness_

_that haunts_

_the living._

**_Sometimes we choose_ **

**_our suffering._ **

-Harley King

* * *

The floor is moist. There is a staleness in the air that coats his skin and lays claim to his nostrils with the overwhelming scent of slowly rotting meat. Aang pulls himself to his hands and knees, and tries not to vomit. He shakily lights a flame in his hand—Agni’s light—and feels a surge of relief when he sees that the floor is not wet with blood, but rather with what looks to be warm drool.

Aang cups the flame in his hands and brings it closer to his core, drawing on the warmth. _Something is wrong with this spirit._ He centers himself with his breath until the flame in his hand is steady.

He’s the Avatar and there are people to save. He shouldn’t be resting.

Aang rises to his feet and extends his hands, spreading the fire out and trading in warmth for light. What he sees confirms his suspicions; walls and floor made of flesh. He’s been eaten like in the stories of selfish boys and hippowhales.

He’s an airbender. He could probably escape. But they’re counting on him. He can’t—

The floor rumbles.

He has to save them. Quickly.

Aang walks fast but it’s dark and the floor is wet. His foot slips, and he tumbles. He tries to catch himself with blasts of air, but when Aang fell he forgot he was the Avatar-that he could bend both fire and air. He let his flame go out and, in the darkness, he couldn’t stop himself from falling down and down into the most uninviting home until his hand grips onto something solid. Something familiar.

_Please be alive._

Aang’s fingers find purchase on telltale grooves; the divots underneath the nose and lips. He twists his fingers, confirming the clammy feel of skin. Aang is pretty sure he is holding onto a face.

He tries to raise his other hand and coax out another flame, but it feels like he’s moving the hollow hand of a puppet, instead of warmth there is a cold numbness.

 _Don’t panic,_ thinks Aang as he sits alone in the belly of a beast with one hand on either a person or a corpse. _Remember, fire draws on air._ Aang times his breathing to the dripping of the cavern walls. He tries again. He will always try again. Fire roars against his hand like a dragon and Aang looks from flame to face.

It is a man with a face gouged with wrinkles and topped with a crooked nose. Aang doesn’t know if he’s alive or not, the skin devoid of a strong vein and smothered in the pulsating wall. Aang makes to hold the flame closer, till it was underneath the man’s nose, so that he could see proof of life in the swaying of the flame, but the light first reflects off of the glistening walls; revealing that flesh had wrapped itself securely around the man as tightly and as uncomfortable as a sopping blanket. 

Aang takes another breath, the wrongness of the air filling his lungs, and braces himself against the slice of flesh covering the man from the chest down. Flames hug his hands and wrists as he slowly presses into the pulsating cocoon.

 _This is taking too long,_ thinks Aang. Although he cannot say for certain how long it has been. The heaviness of the air drapes over him, making him feel slow and lethargic while the beating, moist, room makes any time spent here feel far too long.

He swallows and regrets the taste. If he was a better Avatar, perhaps the man would be freed by now. He was wasting time, time spent on a corpse, all because he couldn’t let go of sentimentalities.

His foot dips into the flesh and Aang bumps his head against the wall, the feeling of warm goo against his face grounding him back into the present.

_Uck._

Aang stares at the fire in his hands and wills it blue. The smell of burnt flesh soon permeating the heavy air.

Of course, blue flames would only remind him of her; the woman responsible for both the scar and soulmark upon his back, Azula.

_“You could try taking away her bending,” suggested Sokka, ever the pragmatic._

_“I don’t know if I can,” said Aang._

He had listed enough reasons to convince the others, but with Ozai escaped and the world in danger, it was hard not to see them as excuses.

Maybe Aang was weak. He wanted to be loved—

_“You need people to like you,” said Azula, her gold eyes cutting through to him as they always did whether on the battlefield or on the same side. She reminded him that he was a mortal, that he was Aang, who she could kill as easily as she could any other._

It wasn’t fair. All Aang wanted was a soulmate who loved him. Was that so wrong? To want to receive without requiring to give, just this once?

_“You hate that the Fire Nation doesn’t want an Avatar.” You hate it. You hate that I’m not required to love you._

No she wasn’t required to love him or to even like him. Soulmates were supposed to be a sign of true love, but destiny consisted of choices. Aang chose Katara but she didn’t choose to love him back. There was no one who would love him the way he wanted, and who could blame them?

The blue in his hands does not falter but Aang lacks the will to push any further.

Aang had put too many expectations on Katara, it was his fault. He had pushed and assumed she would pull. He didn’t bother to check. He didn’t read the signs. No wonder she chose Zuko over him. Would they even be friends after this; when Katara no longer needed the Avatar?

The last of the meaty support melts away and the man or the corpse drops down and hits the floor with a plop. 

Aang stands there unmoving. “Inadequate…” he mumbles, lacking the will to avoid the moist flesh slithering over and encasing his feet. “I feel inadequate…”

*ding*

Aang points an accusing finger into the air. “You’re feeding off of my sadness!” 

The beast lurches and Aang nearly falls backwards as the floor suddenly becomes vertical. He aims a blast of fire and air _Flamey-o Hotman!_ at his feet and lunges.

_Man or corpse, he should be reunited with his family._

Aang grabs ahold of the man

The beast roars. An image of Gyatso’s skeleton flashes through Aang’s mind. The corpse slips free.

_No!_

Aang pushes off the floor-now-wall with a gust of wind and falls after the man. But it’s dark in the belly of the beast. So dark that if it wasn’t for the stinging of air in his eyes Aang wouldn’t know they were open.

 _This must be what it feels like to be blind._ It’s a comforting thought, if only because of Toph, and it’s enough to shake the sadness away for a second.

Aang takes a deep breath. He can’t save him unless he finds him. He didn’t save Toph, he took her away from her family just as he did to Sokka and Katara. He wanted them to suffer. He hated how they had a home to return to while he didn’t. He ruined Zuko’s family—

_“I’m here but that’s not enough for you, is it?”_

Blue flames wrap around his arms, vibrant and insolent of the surrounding darkness. He glimpses a shape below him and flings his arms backwards, propelling himself forward with a burst of blue.

_Gotcha._

Aang catches the man between his legs and then tries to catch himself by burning his hands into the beast. His descent slows to the smell of burning flesh until Aang hangs in place, alone in the belly of the beast with nothing but darkness, his thoughts, and a corpse.

_It’s not enough, is it?_

Aang closes his eyes and tries to ignore the burning in his arms and throat. Blood trickles down his knuckles. _Blood of the beast._ Aang extends his chi, pushing and pulling with each pulse of blood until he feels their heartbeats merge into one.

The beast stills.

“Let us go,” Aang intones.

It is not a request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aang + angst = Aangst. This chapteris a bit different so let me know what works and doesn't works and also because I'm bored.


	15. Chapter 15

The Avatar; the man who had once defeated her father, was _moping_.

His normally fleet feet had become laden with morose repetition in their training sessions. At first, Azula took it as an personal insult. A subtle way to show her that her airbending was not up to par. She had taken to filling her nights with training exercises and her days with catnaps until she finally, _finally,_ turned the wind against him and knocked him off his feet. It was a small victory and a shallow one at that, throwing him off balance was hardly a finishing blow, but it was a victory nonetheless. Then he took a second too long to recover. A second to show that her meager victory was not only small and shallow, but hollow as well. _He wasn’t even trying._

_Did he forget who she was? Did he mistake her for her soft hearted Zuko? Or had she fallen so far from grace that the Avatar no longer considered her a threat?_

The mere thought was enough to make her spit fire.

She had taken to sharpening her chi, focusing her flames, and venting her frustration out with fire onto the stubborn, immovable, rocks dotting the subalpine landscape; pretending the melting mounds were the Avatar’s bald head.

To top it all off, the Avatar was oblivious to her anger. While his feet were grounded his head more often than not was lost in the clouds. Azula had caught him staring off-centered when the nonbender tried to discuss strategy. That very same night, Azula had, on whim, snuck a rock into the Avatar’s dinner bowl only to watch in mild horror as he chewed and swallowed. 

It was beyond ridiculous. They were going up against her father and who knew who, or what, else. Something was wrong in the spirit world and this wrongness had spread in echoes across the four nations but not even the Avatar knew anything more than a vague warning; an unsettling feeling in ones gut— like a rock — that the world was ending, and a crescendo of chaotic, _corrupted,_ spirits. He should be terrified. Not brimming with childlike optimism. 

_The Avatar is a mess of contradictions,_ thinks Azula. For she could never quite see the Avatar as a child. He would display wisdom in one moment and naivety in another. A prodigy and a simpleton. As mercurial as a crosswind. 

Unfortunately for him, Azula was not going to patiently wait out this temperamental storm. She needed the Avatar at his best and so she could not, would not, put up with his moping any longer. 

* * *

“Where’s the Avatar?”

It’s a testament to his moping that the waterbender answers her without theatrics, merely pointing towards a rocky outcropping. Azula marches onwards, not giving the gathered peasants a second thought. 

* * *

Azula had killed the Avatar the last time he turned his back on her, and yet, here he was, sitting with his back towards her once again.

Meditating. As if. It was a form of mockery. No survivor of genocide could be this nonchalant around a firebender. Perhaps around Zuko, sure, but never around Azula. She was the monster. _Was the Avatar once again mistaking her for Zuko?_

With that bitter thought, Azula approaches the Avatar and trails two fingers up his spine, stopping at her scar. A reminder. 

“Good morning, Azula.”

“ _Princess_ Azula,” she corrects. 

The corners of his lips turn. She digs her nails in, turning the reminder into a warning. 

“Good morning, Princess Azula,” he amends, his lips and voice devoid of the amusement she can so easily see scattered across his eyes like stars. 

Azula brushes her two fingers upwards along his tattoo until she reaches his shoulder. She rests her hand there, in a mockery of a friendly gesture, and smiles internally when she feels him shiver. 

“You’ve been moping, Avatar.”

“I have?” The Avatar cranes his neck back, searching her face. 

“I could keep time by your sighs,” says Azula. She makes no move to assist his line of sight. “It’s irritating and I won’t stand for it. Explain yourself.”

The Avatar sighs and drops his head. “You wouldn’t understand— ow!” He rubs his ear and pouts as though she mortally wounded him.

_Cute._

“I thought you didn’t care,” says the Avatar, turning to face her.

Azula crosses her arms. “I don’t. Now talk.”

“It’s hard to explain…” he says warily, but when Azula makes no move to interrupt him or flick his other ear, he continues in a somber tone. “I used bloodbending to free the missing villagers.”

“From the corrupted spirit?” clarifies Azula.

“It wasn’t a corrupted spirit. It was a fish.”

_Avatar. Nonsense._

“A regular fish swallowed an entire village?” asks Azula, not bothering to hide her disbelief. 

The Avatar shrugs good naturally. “Maybe it was imbued with a corrupted spirit but it was still just a fish in the end. It didn’t know what it was doing or that it was wrong. It was innocent.”

“Yes, yes, and you saved it and the village. Why are you moping?”

The Avatar sighs once more and Azula resists the urge to do the same. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand—”

“Make me.”

_grey meets gold_

Azula lifts her chin. “Unless explaining yourself is harder than defeating my father.” She throws her words into the air as a challenge, and in the very same breath he catches them. 

“Bloodbending feels wrong,” he says quietly, the finality of his voice deep enough to bury mountains, “Katara told me it does, but I didn’t know how it felt. I never bloodbended before. I didn’t think I could.” The Avatar hugs his knees to his chest and adds after a pause, “I could feel it struggling. It was torture. I never want to go through that again. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

Azula twists the air around him, cutting off his breath.

The Avatar gets to his feet in an instant and Azula stops her attack. 

_He’s getting taller,_ she thinks as they lock eyes. The thought stretches her mouth into a grin. _Almost a man and yet he still thinks like a boy._

“Why did you do that?” asks the Avatar. He makes no move to retaliate. Instead, he keeps his arms to his sides and stares at her with open confusion. 

Azula sighs. It’s a pity. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of what her father faced.

“To prove a point,” answers Azula, “that move I used on you was your very own air scooter.” She pauses to see if his confusion will bleed into anger but it simmers in his face instead, giving rise to curiosity.

“The bender controls the element,” continues Azula. “Not the other way around. I could torture you as easily with air as I could fire. Does that make airbending wrong? Or firebending? Did bloodbending somehow estrange itself from the elements to garner such a fear from the so called ‘master’ of all four elements?”

“No,” the Avatar shakes his head and then, to her surprise, he laughs. “No, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thank you, Azula.”

Across the battlefield, the Avatar was like the biting wind. But here, on the same side, he floated on merriment. The shift throws her off balance. His comfort weaving away her words until she is left gasping— like the fish. Gasping for air on dry land. 

_He thanked her for suffocating him._

Azula wants to take a step back, but that would be a concession. She casts a critical gaze on him instead and doubles her offensive.

“You shy away from firebending as well. Bad memories?”

“I don’t think I’m afraid of fire.”

“Who said anything about being afraid?” says Azula with a tilt of her head and a smile playing on her lips. “I was referring to you not letting your fire burn as hot as it could, and should. Beifong complained of you burning through an animal trap last week instead of letting her train with it, but your fire is normally nowhere near the intensity required to burn stone let alone metal.”

“Oh, that. That wasn’t me, that was you.” Before she can respond, the Avatar holds out his hands and fills them with an eruption of blue flames. “See? Double bending.”

Azula is struck speechless. There is something quite intimate about seeing her distinct blue fire in the hands of another. She fights the heat threatening to paint her face into a stalemate across her neck.

“Your fire feels different,” continues the Avatar, oblivious to her battle, “what do you think about when you bend?”

“Nothing,” Azula swallows. “Fire is an extension of myself. It is who I am.” She tears her eyes away from his hands and into his warm gaze. “What did you think about when you first airbended?”

The Avatar loses himself in his memories, as Azula knew he would, but then he finds himself far too quickly, “I don’t remember. I think I’m the same as you. Air is who I am— it’s me.”

Azula hasn’t yet regained her balance in this dance of conversation. She motions for him to continue.

Push and pull. Where Azula lost her footing, the Avatar effortlessly regained; once more the nimble dancer he turns the conversation on its heel. 

“When we were in the cave, you said being soulmates didn’t mean anything aside from the double bending. But, if bending is a reflection of who we are then, at the very least, doesn’t that mean we could be friends?”

Azula finds her footing. “We both have titles to bear, Avatar. Do not expect me to forsake mine any more than you would your own. I will always honor my nation above your charade of balance.” 

“It’s not a charade,” says the Avatar with a frown, “the four nations are better when they are united and living together in harmony. As equals.”

“Ideals of children. You think you can unite the nations without fear or a power imbalance but, as you said,” Azula dips away, distancing herself while maintaining his gaze, and says, with a final turn, “some things feel wrong.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Katara, can we talk?”

Aang traces his fingertips over Katara’s veins. The memory of him making the same motion over Azula’s soulmark comes unbidden into his mind and Aang tries to wave it away as he would the nearby cloud of dragonflies hovering over the riverbank. He presses his fingers more firmly as though chastising his mind with a physical reminder. There’s a slight tremble to her wrist. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with me practicing bloodbending on you?” asks Aang.

“Of course,” says Katara but there’s a small tightness between her brows and she looks away a second too quick.

Aang drops her hand. “You’re lying,” he says, trying hard to keep the accusation out of his voice. It wasn’t that he blamed her—quite the opposite. He would have been surprised if she wasn’t the least bit nervous—but they haven’t spoken freely to one another in a while and the silence between them has made Aang more hesitant with his words and tone. 

“It’s not the bloodbending,” starts Katara but then she pauses. “Okay it is but only partially. Can we talk?” 

“Of course,” says Aang but Katara has turned away from him. She walks to the small waterfall running into the river of a brook and runs her hand through the rushing water, playing with it as she would her hair.

Aang follows her and takes a seat on one of the damp rocks, submerging his feet into the cool water, and trying not to notice the distance between them. 

Katara drops her hand and looks past him. “I want us to still be friends,” she says softly, “I know I hurt you by picking Zuko. It was never my intention to hurt you but nevertheless I should have addressed your feelings for me sooner. I’m sorry.”

Aang tackles Katara into a hug and squeezes for all it’s worth. “We’ll always be friends,” he promises. He feels dampness across his shoulder and soon he’s staining her shirt with tears of his own. 

“We’ll always be friends,” repeats Katara while wrapping her arms around him. “Always.”

“Always,” agrees Aang. 

They stay like that, two parts of a heart, hugging each other until eventually they break away. 

“It was never my intention to make you feel that way,” says Aang, settling back onto his rock. “You two are soulmates, and even if you weren’t, you can’t choose who you fall in love with. I didn’t blame you or anything. I just needed some space and I thought you did too.”

“I didn’t know what to think,” says Katara, submerging her feet next to Aang’s and crisscrossing his ripples with her own, “you never said anything.”

“I know, I assumed, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Can I ask,” begins Aang but then he stops. 

Katara gives him a reassuring smile. “Please do, I’d rather have it all out in the open.”

“Alright, when did you realize you were in love with Zuko?”

“Well, I, uh,” Katara lets out an amused sigh. “I didn’t exactly want to be in love with Mister Brooding and Dramatic.”

Aang nods. He remembers the fights Zuko and Katara had in the early days, back when Aang was the only one who believed they could be friends. 

“If I had the choice I would’ve chosen someone else. But, it’s like if every day you went out to count the tides.” Katara leans back. “Every day you’d see them and you’d count them. You think you know them inside out. Then, one day, someone tells you the tides are influenced by the moon and you think: that can’t be right, it doesn’t make sense, I know the tides. So you decide, for whatever reason, maybe to prove them wrong, to go out at _nigh_ t to count the tides and suddenly—”

“You believe,” finishes Aang. The remnants of his crush hurting like broken glass in his heart. 

“Yeah…” Katara turns towards him. “I don’t mind teaching you bloodbending. It’s a bit unsettling how quickly you pick it up but,” she forces a shrug, “benefits of being the Avatar, I guess. My concern is whether Azula played a part. Did she put you up to this?”  
  
“It was my idea,” says Aang. He doesn’t mention his conversation with Azula, he’s made Katara worry enough already, but by the way Katara frowns he figures she’s already guessed at the truth. 

“Aang, I know she’s your soulmate but please be careful. You can’t trust her, not with your life at least. She—”

Can he trust her? Aang is reminded of the moments—the ones where something changes between them. One second he thinks he’s going to die, or die again, and then something happens and in the next second it’s like they’re playing a private game for two. A game where he doesn’t know the rules. 

“Aang?” Katara voice pools with concern. “You lost yourself for a moment there. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking…I don’t think she’ll kill me,” says Aang. Sincerity, soft and quiet, brushes alongside his words like a summer breeze. “She doesn’t want the game to end.” 


	17. Chapter 17

Zuko is not stupid. He’s impatient and impulsive but not stupid. The distinction is slight sometimes, so it's one mistake Azula will _almost_ forgive herself for making. 

Cornered at the edge of a cliff after her training session, Azula is not feeling very forgiving.

Zuko approaches her. “I know I haven’t been the best brother to you. I mean, you did almost murder me so you weren’t the best sister either. It’s okay, I forgive you for that, I guess, since I did challenge you to an Agni Kai. Point is, we both have things we need to apologize for—”

Oh Agni, he’s prepared a speech. Prepared speeches were always Zuzu’s worst speeches. Azula had thought he was going to ask about Mai, and she was looking forward to revealing that Mai had already replaced him, but _this?_ This was torture.

Azula takes a step back. 

They’re on a cliff, but the landscape below is speckled with bodies of water. If Azula manipulates her fall with airbending then she can land safely in the water and away from this conversation.

“— I want us to be like Sokka and Katara. I want to fix our relationship. Let’s start over. Without father. What do you say, sister? 

Azula yawns. “That’s nice Zuko but I’d rather die.” Then, with a smirk, she lifts her arms to her side and tips backwards until she’s falling into the air.

It was the perfect exit. At least, it would have been had the Avatar not intervened. 

_He’s trying to save me,_ thinks Azula and then, _he shouldn’t have done that._

Azula had had a plan, a simple but glorious plan, to slow her descent by surrounding herself with a vortex of air.

The Avatar ruins her plans, as per his nature. 

He grabs hold of her at the same time his glider grabs hold of the swirling air, resulting in them spinning off her destined path and hurtling downward at a rate much, much faster than either of them expected. 

They ricochet across the water like thunder until they crash into white waters. Azula had the foresight to forcibly relax her body before she hit the water. The Avatar, for all his wisdom, did not. She feels his arm around her waist loosen— and the likelihood he gained a sense of self preservation is far lower than the likelihood he fell unconscious— so Azula holds him tight. 

They've landed in dangerous waters, into the rushing river instead of the languid lake, and Azula struggles to keep afloat. The current whips her eyes but its the undercurrent, the indifferent and inevitable downward pull, combined with the Avatar’s own weight that pulls her under. 

There’s a vague shape near the bottom, a murky mess like an ink spill across a shadow. Azula takes the gamble of it being a cave instead of a sea creature and propels themselves towards it with a blast of air and the last dregs of her consciousness. 

It’s a cave. An underwater cave. Azula breathes deeply until her vision clears but she doesn’t celebrate. The Avatar infuriatingly believes that she can earthbend and she’s too prideful to admit to him that she can’t. That it was a fluke. That some small part of her didn’t want to see her brother be crushed by a boulder like Lu Ten. And without earthbending, or waterbending for that matter, she’s trapped. Azula turns to the Avatar and is about to pointedly demand that he fixes the mess he created…

...only to see that he’s still unconscious. And then, when Azula drags him further up the cave floor, she sees a small trail of blood leading to his head.

Azula knows enough about head injuries to know that they’re bad, and that she shouldn’t move him further, but not much beyond that. She gently moves his head to be in line with his spine and tries to recall whether applying direct pressure to a head wound is good or bad. She decides not to risk it, and moves to perform CPR when she remembers herself.

 _Of course the Avatar would die the second it’s inconvenient for me._ _  
_

She should let him die, chop off his hand and bring it to her father as proof of her loyalty. She should…

…but it would be dishonorable this way. The Avatar should die in a rematch against her father. 

Azula begins CPR and tries not to think too deeply about her actions. 

_This isn’t their first soulmate kiss. Medical emergencies don’t count,_ thinks Azula, but she still feels a curl of embarrassment when her lipstick leaves stains on his lips. 

She’s glad he wakes up on a chest compression but, while the Avatar’s responsive enough to cough up water, Azula doesn’t trust him to lift his head let alone to walk. 

“Avatar?”

No response.

“Aang.”

His eyes flicker in her direction. 

Azula kneels and cradles his head. Blood staining her hands. 

“Aang,” she croons slowly, “tell me how to activate the Avatar state.” 

He mumbles something about hidden gold, but when Azula leans in to try and make out his words he falls silent and then once more unconscious. 

Azula has only used the Avatar state once. Logically, it would be close to impossible for her to activate it again, let alone to heal, but Azula is counting on whatever Avatar nonsense that kicked in and saved the Avatar from her (and from her father) to kick in again.

She closes her eyes and thinks about her mother. Not her mother. Ursa. Azula places herself back in the moment when Iroh told her that they had found her mother hiding away with a replacement daughter. 

She opens her eyes.

Nothing.

_Failure._

Azula never understood why Zuzu thought she was born lucky. Luck isn’t earned. Azula fought tooth and nail for every shred of her father’s attention.

_“Azula. I should have known you’d betray me. I should have heeded my wife’s warning.”_

_“Never father, I—”_

It was never enough. Not Ba Sing Se. Not anything. 

There’s no one here, no one but herself and the soon-to-be-dead Avatar, so Azula lets loose a string of swears that a Princess should never utter. 

The cave responds with the steady lapping of water and the too loud sound of blood dripping through fingers and onto rock. 

_Zuko couldn't even tell me himself that they found Ursa. He hadn't uttered a word about mother. Not that it matters,_ thinks Azula, then

she quickly and firmly shakes those thoughts away and looks back down at the Avatar. “I blame you for this,” snaps Azula, “I didn’t need saving. Why did you—”

_Azula can’t remember the last time someone saved her, she’s not sure if it’s a memory she has, but it doesn’t matter. The marks on her arms are glowing._

* * *

Of course, the Avatar state would do just enough to save the Avatar from death but not enough to spare Azula her dignity. 

Azula is giving the Avatar a piggyback ride. 

_Utterly ridiculous._

The Avatar nuzzles against her neck. She stills.

“…Appa.”

Clearly, Azula had made a mistake in saving his life. She will have to rectify that immediately. As soon as the Avatar is conscious and therefore able to feel fear.

“Appa, let’s run away.”

“Brilliant idea, Avatar,” says Azula, her voice a mine for pure sarcasm, ”Can you attempt it instead of drifting in and out of consciousness?”

The Avatar drifts out of consciousness. 

“Admittedly, I should have seen that coming.”

Azula doesn’t get a reply. She shifts her weight. The Avatar is light but he’s not that light, and Azula doesn’t know how far she’ll have to walk. She’ll settle for less shoulder strain even if that means the Avatar may drool on her ear.

Not for the first time, Azula wonders why she’s still here. Sure, the spirits heavily suggested that the world is ending, and her father was trying to kill her, but Azula was never overly concerned with what the spirits had to say, and she could still attempt to reason with her father. She had to. Everyone left her but her father, at least, promised to return. Sure, having everyone know she’s the Avatar’s soulmate may make it harder to convince her father she’s on his side, but Azula’s certain that he’d rather have her fighting with him than against. Especially considering his defeat at the hands of the Avatar. 

Azula looks to the aforementioned man at her side and rolls her eyes. 

“I’m certain that the only reason you won is because I vastly overestimated your intelligence. I could have put a help me sign pointing to a volcano and you’d jump right in, wouldn’t you?”

Aang mumbles, “I’m sorry about the iceberg.”

“You should be sorry,” says Azula despite not having a clue as to what he’s talking about. 

“I wish they didn’t pick me to be the Avatar.”

“…I thought you wanted to be the Avatar?” 

“…”

“Aang?”

The Avatar is unconscious again. Azula sighs. 

The walls start to rumble. Azula quickly sets the Avatar down.

Beifong and the others are here.

The waterbender takes one look at Aang and then turns to her with a glare. Azula can practically feel the waterbender build up momentum for a scolding or a fight, and Azula’s not in the mood to deal with either so she interrupts with, “I used the Avatar state to heal his head with some weird manner of firebending, but who knows if it worked.”

Immediately, the waterbender is all over Aang, making circling motions with her hands, and healing him with waterbending. 

Azula glances up to see Zuko staring at her, and then it suddenly dawns on her how weird it is for her to stay and watch the Avatar heal.

She leaves, but it’s too late. Zuko catches up to her. 

“Azula, I know I haven’t been the best brother—”

She shoves him behind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what happened to mom!” shouts Zuzu, “I didn’t think you cared!”

Azula wants to say she doesn’t care. That Ursa isn’t her mother. She thinks the words and moves her mouth, but what comes out is, “I cried when you left.”

Pause.

“After the Agni Kai?” asks Zuzu. 

_Away from their father’s eyes. Yes she had—_

“He couldn’t even scar you properly. He left you your sight."

Zuzu chuckles— _She’d thought he’d get mad. When did he stop being so easy to bait?_ — “Our family is so fucked up.” 

“Zuzu! Such language is not befitting of a member of the Royal Family.” Azula holds the stern expression for a full second before she cracks and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. 

It’s the first laughter she has shared with her brother in a very long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is being terrible so updates may be sporadic. It's just, yeah.  
> (( ༎ຶ ◡︎༎ຶ)


	18. Chapter 18

Aang says he’s fine. That his head is all healed. That the world is in danger and as the Avatar he can’t take a day off to rest. To relax, sure, but to avoid anything strenuous, including _bending_? He was the master of all four elements for Yangchen’s sake. But it doesn’t matter what he says when Katara and Azula are miraculously on the same side. 

So he’s taking a day off to rest. Kind of. 

Turns out it’s dangerous to fall asleep with a head injury because your soul could drop out of your body and be trapped forever. Aang’s not sure if that makes sense, he has to sleep eventually, but for his friends' peace of mind he lies down comfortably on Appa, while Toph sits nearby and makes sure he doesn’t accidentally fall asleep and lose his soul. He's not allowed to bend or do basically anything, not even read, so for the past hour Aang’s been amusing himself by describing the clouds to Toph.

So he’s bored.

Very bored. 

And he’s running out of conversation topics.

Aang sighs. “Toph, was I moping?”

Toph doesn’t reply, but Aang doesn’t make the mistake of thinking she’s asleep. Last time he did that, and thought he could take a nap as well, Toph threw mud at him. 

“Azula said I was moping. Did you guys tell her to make me stop?”

Toph scoffs. “We didn’t say anything, Princess stormed on over and demanded to know where you were.” 

Aang doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“I wish I could’ve seen the looks on their faces,” continues Toph, “the others were frozen in fear.”

“Azula iceberged them?” 

“Ice— what?”

“Iceberged. Azula has this look that makes you feel like you’re frozen in an iceberg. I would know.”

Then, because Toph can’t see, Aang went on to describe said look. 

And then, because he didn’t have anything better to do, Aang went on to describe Azula’s other looks.

Aang is halfway into describing a gooey iceberg, one where the outside is frozen but the inside is one fire, when he realizes that Toph had gone silent a while ago. A long while ago. 

He pauses, but Toph doesn’t say anything and even if she was asleep for real this time, Aang doesn’t really feel like napping anymore. 

He’s trying to describe the feeling of looking for lightning on a sunny day, while keeping in mind that Toph has never seen lightning nor the sun, when Toph asks, “Why do you care so much?”

Aang tries to think about it, but his head kinda hurts when he focuses too much and it feels like he’s trying to unravel the thin silken strings of a spiderfly’s web. He ends up shutting his eyes and massaging his face for a bit, and is glad when Toph doesn’t interject, that she stays silent and steady. But the words don’t get any clearer so he ends up going with the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I don’t know her. I don’t know my own soulmate,” croaks out Aang, and then, because while those words are true they’re far too heavy and Aang doesn’t think it’s something he can talk about with his head injury, or at all. “ Everyone likes the Avatar now except for Azula and those trying to rule the world.”

Toph snorts.“I’m pretty sure Princess wants to rule the world,” she says, bluntly. 

Aang looks back up at the sky. “I don’t know,” he says, softly, “I think if Azula really wanted to, she would have done so by now.”

“…”

“I know I’m probably wrong, but I want to get know her better, just in case.”

“…”

“I want her to like the Avatar,” adds Aang.

“…”

“Toph?”

“Yeah. I heard you Twinkletoes.” 


	19. Chapter 19

It’s difficult to learn healing without wounds to practice on. Thankfully, Azula can always count on making a training dummy out of Zuzu. 

It was easier than she expected to convince him to make three deep cuts on his arm, and he didn’t even protest when she revealed that she was going to try and heal them with firebending. Zuzu just quietly and dutifully made the gashes and let her take over.

Azula had chalked it up to sentimentality making him weak but, in hindsight, she should have known it was a sign that he was plotting something.

She was too distracted by the idea of healing with firebending. It was a facet of firebending that was unheard of and attempting to do so would, obviously, require deep concentration, complete focus, and _no small talk_. 

“Remember the night mom left?”

Blue flames flare out and burn the cut instead of healing it. Azula looks up at her brother and glares.

Zuzu winces. “Sorry. Sokka said siblings bond over shared memories, and that was the first one that came to mind.”

Azula drags a nail across the worsened wound, “I’m so sorry,” she coos, “does that hurt?”

Zuzu gestures to his face. “I’ve had worse.”

Azula removes her nail and moves onto the next cut, but she’s familiar with her brother’s brand of stupidity and braces herself against his second, inevitable, interruption.

“Things changed when she left. She told me to never forget who I am, but I didn’t know who I was at the time. It took a while.”

The second cut may have healed somewhat, it doesn’t seem to have gotten worse, but it’s clearly nowhere near perfect. Azula presses down on it. Hard. 

“Zuzu. Surely even you have noticed that our relationship is best when we avoid speaking to each other?” 

“I want that to change,” protests Zuzu with a frown. 

“You look like father when you frown,” says Azula, hoping that her words will cut an end to her brother’s weakness.

This time, Azula makes her fire more tepid— lukewarm. Calling upon the calming breathing techniques of Air nomads until her flames caress her brother’s arm like sunlight. She tends to the final cut in blissful silence. 

However, her brother, if nothing else, is frightfully stubborn.

“You can pick the next topic,” he offers with a painfully forced smile. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“I pick silence. Seriously Zuzu, if you’re going to be this much of a nuisance I’ll go practice on Aang.”

“Aang?”

Azula raises an eyebrow and considers rolling her eyes for good measure. “The Avatar,” she deadpans. “You may have heard of him?” 

“I know who he is,” bites back Zuzu. His voice taking on an indignant tinge that Azula knows well. She drops his arm.

“I’m just…” He pauses to think of his next word. Trust Zuzu to open his mouth first and think later. “…surprised,” he says at last. “You’re calling Aang by his first name instead of by his title. It’s unusual.”  
  
“Don’t think too deeply about it,” says Azula with a sneer while rising up. “Thinking isn’t your strong suit. I hardly call you by your title. Right, Zuzu?”

Zuzu scowls. _That’s better._ “It’s weird. Did something happen between you two?”

“Like I said. Not your strong suit.” 

* * *

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped giving my brother advice,” says Azula with an evil smile. 

“What do you want Azula,” demands the nonbender. To his credit, he did manage to locate where she was perched from the sound of her voice alone. Azula jumps off the tree and lands down in front of him with a gust of air that pushes him back but fails to knock him off his feet. _I’ll have to work on that move,_ notes Azula with a frown.

“I asked you what you wanted,” repeats the nonbender, hefting his club at her.

Azula puts a hand on her hip. “And I already told you; I want you to stop giving sibling advice.” 

He frowns and reluctantly lowers his weapon. “What was wrong with my advice?”

“You gave it to an idiot,” says Azula with the same dry disdain a fish would use to describe the land, “the shared memory he chose was of our mother’s banishment.”   
  
He sucks air through his teeth. “Okay. Wow. Not my fault. I’ll try and be more specific next time.” He scratches his head with his free hand. “Or you could also, yah know, be less prickly.”

“Prickly,” repeats Azula in a warning tone that goes completely over the nonbender’s thick head.

“Prickly,” he says with a nod, “You could try to get along with Zuko, but instead you act like a cactus. Except more prickly and with insults and fire.”

Azula takes a deep breath. _Stupidity must be a shared trait among older brothers._ “You’re absolutely right.”

The nonbender eyes her warily but he can’t keep the sliver of hope out of his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” confirms Azula. “In fact, why don’t you and I get along better now too with a trust exercise? I promise not to kill you, and you close your eyes.”

He falls back into a stance.

“Come now,” chides Azula. “You should try to be less prickly and take my words at face value.”

“Oh hardy, har, har. You’re hilarious,” says the nonbender with a face devoid of humor. 

Azula dryly inspects her nails. “I know. But I didn’t come here just to crack jokes and make you jump in fright. I have a question for you: Does Aang believe in soulmates?” 

“I didn’t jump,” protests the nonbender, “and why not ask Aang yourself?”

“Because he’s resting from a head injury and he might mistake my curiosity for interest. Any other stupid questions, or can you answer this one so I can leave your peasant presence?”

He crosses his arms and scowls. “Aang is open to opinions but I strongly suggested he ignore his soulbond. He wants to believe but since it’s you he’s on the fence.”

_Then he’s nice without reason? A fool._

“You’re dismissed, peasant.” 

* * *

“Making friends, Princess?”

“You know how sensitive they are,” defends Azula. She looks to Beifong expectantly. “How did he heal?”

Beifong smirks. “Twinkletoes has a hard head. He’ll be fine. Although, he does seem to think you’ve mastered earthbending…” 

Azula scowls.

Beifong’s smirk widens into a smug smile. “Why didn’t you ask me to teach you?”

“You didn’t offer,” says Azula.

Beifong shrugs. “Well, I’m offering now.”

Azula almost asks why but decides against it. Beifong is an excellent earthbender and Azula doesn’t want to risk changing her mind. 

They train late into the night (a benefit of having a teacher who doesn’t need to see) before Beifong calls it quits. 

Azula plans to stay and train. She has done eighteen-hour training sessions before, and it’s important to hammer in the basics. She expects Beifong to leave, not to stay and, well, sense. 

Beifong answers her unspoken question in the middle of a kata. 

“I wanted to know what he sees in you.”

Azula focuses on not losing her footing and pretends to not have heard. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Am I going too fast for a slow burn?  
> Everyone else: Why is this slow burn so slow?!
> 
> Also it turns out when I don't have time to write fanfiction that's when my brain churns out words faster than a politician lies. Just so you know I'm not fishing when I say I'm taking a break from updating. I really should take a break but my hubris hasn't caught up to me yet.

Azula mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “Avatar nonsense” which Aang personally thinks is unfair. He didn’t cause any of this nonsense. The Spirit World didn’t ask him for permission to go haywire. And if he had the power to create an invisible barrier, he would be smart enough not to walk right into it. Aang rubs his face and frowns.

“How’s your head?” asks Katara while helping him to his feet. “It’s fine,” says Aang with a soft smile. He shoots Azula a dirty look. “What happened?”

“Surprisingly, there are barriers in place to prevent you from just walking in and receiving answers,” says Azula, as though she knew this all along.

“Do the barriers work on you?” asks Aang.

“Probably,” replies Azula. 

Aang huffs. If anything this is Fire Nation nonsense. Maybe Ozai discovered invisibility bending. He stretches his arms out in front of him until they press against something. “Weird. It feels like a wall but I can’t see anything. Toph?”

“I’m not sensing anything on my end.” Toph sticks her arms out as well and then walks past him. “Where’s the barrier?”

“It’s…right where you are…” Aang stares in puzzlement. “Can everyone else walk through it?”

One by one the group walks through it all except for Aang and Azula. 

“Princess Azula,” Aang says politely, “can you try to walk through the barrier?”

Azula ignores him and sits down on a nearby picnic table. “There’s no point. You clearly can’t, so either we leave without any answers or we split the group into two.” 

“Fine,” says Aang before any bickering can start. He walks over to where Azula is sitting and gives a firm look to the others. “I’m staying here with Azula. The rest of you will go to the shrine and find answers.” 

He sees his friends open their mouths to argue and waves them off with a shake of his head. “We have no choice. Please, just go.”

* * *

Once the others are gone, Azula turns to him. “You’re in a bad mood.” She hums. “Aren’t Air Nomads supposed to be cheerful?”

Aang sighs and slumps down onto the opposing seat. He rests his head in his arms. 

Azula taps her nails on the table. “It was a yes or no question. No need for melodrama.”

Aang shrugs. “It’s not like you can go ask them,” he mumbles then regrets it immediately. 

“Sorry, I—”

Azula laughs.

“What’s so funny?” asks Aang, feeling more than a little confused. Thus far he’s gotten a pretty good handle on Azula’s odd sense of humor. At least he thought he did. Come to think of it, she didn’t laugh when he smacked his head into an invisible wall and Aang is pretty sure that’s something Azula would laugh about. It makes more sense than laughing at his apology at any rate. 

“You are. It’s hilarious that you feel the need to apologize to me. However, if you _simply must_ make amends, you can start by explaining why you’re in such a bad mood.” Azula gives him a wicked smile. “Only as a start.”

“Right…” trails off Aang. _This is probably a bad idea._ He looks back down at the table and sighs. “I guess I just feel useless.” _Inadequate._ “It’s not like I caused this,” he says, raising his head off the table and looking down at her with a steady gaze, “I _didn’t._ But everyone expects me to have all the answers when I don’t. I don’t know what caused this. I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t contact the past Avatars.” _I said too much._ Aang lays his head back down in defeat. “I can’t do anything,” he mumbles. 

“…I’m sure there’s an Air Nomad saying about focusing your energy on the things you can change instead of what you can’t,” says Azula in a voice that sounds almost…unsure. 

Aang looks up and feels a jolt of guilt. He’s the Avatar, he’s supposed to bring hope to people not burden them with his insecurities. “Even the mightiest wind has to move a mountain pebble by pebble.” He flashes her what he hopes is a confident smile. “It’s okay. I’ve fought against worse odds and won.” Then he winces because oh yeah Azula was one of those odds. 

Azula pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re so terrible at lying it’s almost insulting.”

“Hey,” says Aang, and then with a burst of confidence he reaches across the table and grips her wrist. “I mean it. I’ll find a way to fix this.” He slides his hand until it’s holding hers and gives a reassuring squeeze. “I promise—”

“Let go before I burn you,” says Azula, coldly. 

Aang drops her hand. “I will save the world.”

“Of course you will,” sneers Azula. “If you don’t everyone will be dead. It doesn’t matter what platitudes you give with those odds.”

“But you seemed unsure…” Aang tilts his head. “Why?”

“I may be…unaccustomed to providing comfort,” Azula admits begrudgingly and then she fixes him with a stare that Aang can only describe as blinding. The first sunlight of the morning. The light that first strikes his face when he wakes up. Aang blinks and rubs his eyes, feeling, at that moment, caught off guard and a little bit too open. 

“I’m going to teach you how to lie,” announces Azula. 

Aang stares, and she must take that as an accession for Azula moves to his side and sits down next to him. 

“Start by telling me a truth,” demands Azula.

Aang is…a lot of things. Right now he feels as though everything he is and was, every previous Avatar, every emotion, is having a dance party somewhere between his chest and his stomach. He wants to ask why she’s providing him comfort, but there’s no justification for such a question and no reason for him to care. This is Azula; she’s dangerous. Regardless of sides and soulmates, Aang can’t ignore the fact that she remains loyal to her father. 

Azula snaps her fingers in front of his face, startling him out of his thoughts. “This isn’t difficult. Tell me a truth. Say the first thing that comes to mind.”  
  
“I like your eyes,” blurts out Aang and then he holds his breath. 

“Not bad. Flattery is a form of lying.”

Aang breathes a sigh of relief then he shifts over on the bench until he’s facing her with his body. “I wasn’t lying. I was telling a truth. I like your eyes.”

Azula waves her hand in a flippant gesture. “I’m aware I don’t have my father’s eyes.” Her eyes widen then narrow so quickly that if Aang wasn’t watching them he’d have missed it. Azula holds out her hand next to his face. “Don’t flinch,” she warns. 

* * *

Aang does flinch when fire appears in close proximity to his face. It’s a logical reaction. Azula tsks at him anyways and holds his chin with her other hand. “Hold still.”

Aang holds still. Deathly still. Azula’s nails are as sharp as claws and she curls them until only her thumb is pressing on the bottom of his lip and the other four digits are centered on the vein running through his neck. 

Aang doesn’t budge. With nowhere to look but straight ahead, Aang watches Azula and grows increasingly frustrated. 

_“Does it say anything about a girl?”_

He wonders if Aunt Wu knew who his soulmate was and that’s why she didn’t answer him. He frowns and that slight movement draws a speck of blood on the bottom of his lip. Without thinking, he licks it.

Azula glares at him.

“Sorry,” he murmurs carefully around her thumb. Azula doesn’t laugh at his apology this time but she does loosen her grip. 

“Look down and into my eyes,” she commands, bringing both her face and her flame closer to him. 

Aang complies. His initial frustration returning. They say that the eyes are windows into the soul, so how is it that he can see from sunrise to sunset in Azula’s eyes and yet know next to nothing about her?

_Why did you kill me?_

Azula moves her flame higher. Making it brighter. Dimmer. Then back down again. Front. Back.

Aang stares resolutely into Azula’s eyes as if willing them to speak.

_Were you scared? Were you serving your Nation? Were you trying to bring your brother back?_

Azula brings the flame under his neck. 

_Why do you hate me?_

The flame disappears. “Princess?” 

“What color are your eyes?” asks Azula in a way that makes the question sound like an accusation. 

Aang blinks in confusion. “I can’t see my eyes...” He says carefully.

Azula frowns and for a moment Aang worries he pushed too far. That the angle of his tone was wrong and instead of appeasing the fire, he’s made it worsen. 

But Azula only huffs and says, “Your eyes change from brown to gray.” 

“Oh,” he says and then, as if suddenly remembering her hand is around his neck, Azula removes her hand and wipes her thumb on his shirt. 

Aang sucks his bottom lip. “We don’t have mirrors in the Air Temple. True beauty is on the inside.”

Azula sighs. “It pains me to know you’re being honest. You never knew you were attractive?”

Aang gives a quick, tight shrug and looks away. “I could see my reflection in the water. Weren’t you going to teach me how to lie?”

“Yes.” Azula clears her throat. “I was. Tell me you’re not the Avatar.”

“What? Can’t I pick my lie?”

“No, you can’t. If there’s an emergency this is the lie that has the greatest likelihood of saving your life.” Azula leans her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand. She watches him. 

Aang makes a noise halfway between a whine and a moan. “Alright. Fine. I’m not the Avatar.”

“You didn’t even open your eyes,” scolds Azula. “Try to say your lie the same way you said your truth.”

“How did I say my truth?” asks Aang.

She flicks his arm. “Quit stalling. Repeat your truth if you’ve forgotten it that easily. Then say your lie.”  
  
“I like your eyes. I’m not the Avatar.” Aang winces as he hears his mistakes. He said his lie much faster than his truth and stumbled over the ‘not’. 

“Slower,” commands Azula, “and relax your hands.”

Aang looks down at his hands. He didn’t even realize he was gripping his legs. He relaxes his hands and smooths them against his pants. 

“Don’t move your hands at all. Keep them still and relax your face.”

“Right.” Aang nods. “I like your eyes. I’m— he clutches his legs— going to try again.”

Several failed attempts later, Azula is holding his hands still and yet Aang’s no closer to telling a lie.

“I’m trying,” says Aang with his shoulders hunched up to his ears. 

Azula says nothing. 

“I am!” he shouts, then flinches at the sound of his voice and takes several deep breaths. “I am.”

“Why is this so hard for you?” asks Azula and there’s a slight softness to her voice that makes her question actually sound like a question. “Your title can’t be removed with words.”

“Wasn’t yours?” asks Aang. He knows he’s playing with fire before Azula responding glare but he doesn’t care. “Why are you loyal to your father when he’s trying to kill you?”

“My title is who I am. It’s who you are. It’s not dependent on what other people think.” Azula says slowly. She shoots him a pointed look. “If it was that easy to stop you from being the Avatar then I wouldn’t have had to use lightning.”

“That…makes sense,” Aang says, dumbfounded. 

“Of course it does. What did you expect?” Azula cuts him off with a, “Don’t answer that,” before he can reply. She covers his hands with hers and digs her nails slightly into his skin as a warning. “Now, lie to me.”

Aang opens his mouth. A wave of water knocks Azula off the bench. Aang closes his mouth. He turns and sees a red-faced Katara.

* * *

“It really is a misunderstanding,” says Aang. He bravely positions himself in between Katara, who has her water out, and Azula, who has literal steam rolling off her. “Really.”

“There have been a lot of misunderstandings,” mutters Katara while sending a dark look over his shoulder. 

“Because you’re an idiot,” snaps Azula. 

“Guys…” Aang says pleadingly.

“It’s almost like they’re soulmates,” interrupts Toph and it’s a good thing she’s blind because otherwise Aang’s pretty sure Toph would wither under the glares sent her way instead of giving a cheeky grin back. 

Azula looks at him and motions to the woods behind them. “Could I speak with you in private, Aang?”

He nods. 

“Aang!” exclaims Katara. 

He gives Katara a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder. “I’ll be alright.” Aang follows Azula. 

Katara turns to the others. “I’m not the only one who sees it, right?”

“I see it too,” says Toph. 

* * *

Aang hovers to the side as Azula crosses her arms and glares with her back towards him.

He takes a step forward, snapping a twig in two, but Azula doesn’t turn. “Princess Azula?” 

At the sound of her title, Azula sighs. “I planned on teaching you how to lie as a favor.”

She turns towards him. “Would you like to know why Beifong and I get along, instead?”

Aang nods furiously. 

“We’re behind the bed lizards.”

He gasps.

Azula smirks. “I knew no one would suspect me of stooping to snatching lizards. The brilliance of my plan lied in its simplicity. Beifong covering for me was an unexpected, but not an unwelcome surprise. She found the pranks hilarious and I, in return for her secrecy, left her bedroll alone. Now you know.”

Aang gives a crooked grin. "Thanks Princess."

"Don't mention it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be wondering whether Azula is aware that some of her actions appear flirtatious. The answer is that she is absolutely NOT aware. Azula is with flirting as Zuko is with giving speeches. They're both naturally talented at it but once they put in the slightest bit of effort they're terrible and there's no in between. Also, feel free to recommend this fic to others *finger guns*


	21. Chapter 21

Natural pain killers have the side effect of making one feel fuzzy, or maybe Azula is just lucky that way. 

“Would you like some tea?” asks Uncle Iroh and Azula nods because her mouth is dry. He pours her a cup of Jasmine tea. Azula thanks her Uncle and he looks surprised. 

There’s a persistent nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Azula wishes she could burn away. It’s really annoying. 

Azula takes a sip and the nagging feeling disappears because _wow this tea is so good_. It feels as though the tea leaves aren’t all concentrated at the bottom but rather in the center, as though they were added and brewed at various times, letting the tea have a much fuller and well-distinguished flavor. She says as much to her Uncle who gets a starry look in his eyes before sitting down next to her and pouring a cup for himself.

They discuss the merits of tea for some time; her Uncle praising the peaceful properties of white tea and Azula responding with the energetic benefits of black tea when Azula wonders why they’ve never discussed tea before, and the nagging feeling returns in full force. 

“Why did you never like me?” asks Azula. She doesn’t remember thinking the words, she opened her mouth and the words just dropped out, but once they’re there she finds herself hoping her Uncle won’t avoid her question. It’s okay when Aang tries to avoid her questions because he does so in such a cute way but her Uncle is not cute at all. 

“You reminded me of my father, and of myself before Lu Ten’s death,” says Uncle Iroh quietly and Azula frowns. She remembers Lu Ten. “I liked Lu Ten,” she says. 

Uncle Iroh smiles sadly. “Everyone did.”

“My father didn’t,” says Azula, “it was the only difference between you two.”

Uncle Iroh’s caterpillar eyebrows raise in alarm. “‘The only difference’?” 

Azula giggles to herself at the thought of caterpillars. She takes a sip of tea, _so good_ , then says, “You both always thought you knew me. I never liked dolls. I never wanted to be Fire Lord.”

Uncle Iroh says nothing to that so Azula starts to hum. It’s a song that Lu Ten liked but Azula never fully learned the lyrics, something about a soldier boy, and so she trails off. Her Uncle remains silent. He’s letting his tea grow cold. Azula tries to reach for his cup but she can’t. She looks down at her arm and pouts. “When can this dumb cast come off?”

That seems to snap her Uncle out of his daze.

“Hmm,” says Uncle Iroh while stroking his beard, “it depends on how badly it’s broken.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “I didn’t punch the wall that hard.”

“You punched a wall?”

“A _metal_ wall,” clarifies Azula. “I knew how to metal bend but my body refused to cooperate. Pain is a good persuader.”

Uncle Iroh pauses mid-sip. “I see. Can you metal bend now?” he asks, casually. 

Azula frowns at her cast. “Only a little bit,” she admits and then quickly adds, “it will be easier with two arms.”

Uncle Iroh nods. “I’m sure it will be. Hopefully, when Katara returns she’ll be able to fix your arm.” He refills her cup and smiles. “But until then, we drink tea!”

Azula grumbles in response to her Uncle’s merriment but she sips her tea all the same. It is really good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time. Zuko doesn't like tea so it stands to reason that someone does. As always, feel free to comment and critique.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to the people who mentioned my fanfic on tumblr and twitter, you made me feel like a celebrity, and a shout out to user "Spicytramp" for being this fanfic's 69th total (private+public) bookmark.

Underneath the floorboards of the Jasmine Dragon lies a hidden room lit only by lanterns. Aang kneels in front of a small table, pours himself a cup of tea, and feels oddly calm as he watches an angry Azula pace around the room. 

_I’ve been letting my guard down around her_ , thinks Aang as he traces Azula’s form with his eyes. 

It was the uncertainty. Azula was, at least, familiar to him and that familiarity brought comfort in these uncertain times. It’s why he relaxes around her. Something that he had once thought impossible to do, and yet has become almost routine. It was strange how easily they could fit and break against each other.

Aang mulls over his thoughts as he watches her half stalk half prowl.

The feeling of unsettlement is one they, surprisingly, have in common. Although Aang would have to guess at her reasons. When he had simply asked, Azula had bit back with, “Why would I want to be reminded of my failures?” Failures. Plural. There was something she regretted more than killing him, if she even regretted that at all. 

Aang folds himself until his chin is resting on his knee and tries not to linger on the past. Azula was on their side now. Although, she still wanted to kill him. Despite being his soulmate. 

Aang shakes his head decisively. He wasn’t going to think about it. He goes back to watching her.

Azula was a puzzle. Aang has noticed that she has a habit of manipulating _everything_. She would combine statements with questions and disguise requests as demands. Or was she disguising demands as requests? It was infuriatingly confusing.

“Why did they leave me alone with you?” snaps Azula. 

Aang frowns. “It was the safest option. We don’t know what’s going on out there. The sickness, Iroh heard word that it was a secretly a trap for us, and it’s best if no one is alone. Safety in numbers. Plus, they’ll return soon.” He gives her a diplomatic smile. Azula turns away— 

He shouldn’t press, but there’s nothing else to do in this windowless room except fluff pillows and drink tea.

“You’re also injured,” he adds. 

She turns back to him with a glare. The fury of her eyes contrasting with the soft flickering of candlelight and reminding Aang of orange gliders flickering past the evening sun. 

“My arm is fine,” says Azula.

Aang hums, noncommittally. 

“Your tea is cold,” she says with a sneer and resumes her march.

Aang blinks in surprise at his Ginseng tea. It _is_ cold. He reheats it, _I didn’t expect her to deflect_ , and takes a sip. The taste is grounding. He heats the tea longer than required and puffs at the rising air, wondering if he could get away with making shapes in the steam without Azula noticing. 

His eyes drift towards the nonexistent windows and then rest, once again, on Azula. 

_Why her?_

Aang clears his throat and, in a voice as soothing as the morning breeze, asks, “Is something wrong?” 

“The weight of your stare is giving me a headache,” snarls Azula, and then she pounces. 

In a second, Azula is in front of him. She swipes, snatching the cup from his hands, and his tea evaporates in an instant. With more measured movements, she funnels the steam into a ball and flicks it in his direction. “Ask.”

Aang didn’t move. Not when she walked up to him. Not when she reached for him. He should have, he knows that, there’s a scar underneath his soulmark that reminds him of exactly what Azula can do to him, and yet he didn’t move. 

_I’ve gotten far too comfortable._ Aang stares at the ball of steam in his hands, the one he’d caught without thinking. _We’re on the same side_ , he reminds himself. _It’s a good thing. I’m overthinking it._

He waves his thoughts away and ponders her strange question. 

“Ask whatever question is on your mind,” clarifies Azula. “I may answer, if only for my own peace.”

 _If I’ve gotten too comfortable then you have too,_ resolves Aang. He tugs at the air, pulling both the steam and his thoughts into shape. “…there are moments when I want to know what you’re thinking,” he says at last, stepping carefully into a familiar dance. Or was it a battle? 

“Don’t we all?” says Azula. She waits for him to continue, but he is content with watching and thus shakes his head. 

“You wasted your question,” she derides with amusement. “My turn.”

Azula taps a finger to her cheek. Tap. Tap. Tap. They’ve become sharp. Aang had seen her filing away at them at camp and was struck by how oddly humanizing the action was, until he realized she was sharpening them into almost dragon-like claws. Perhaps that should be his next question— why do you sharpen your claws? 

He absentmindedly rubs his fingernails, and that must have been the signal Azula was waiting for, because she strikes, 

“What was it like to die?”

Aang flinches and Azula smirks. He schools his face back into a neutral expression, grateful that Azula cannot steal faces. _Of course she’d remind me of exactly why I shouldn’t be comfortable around her._ He unfolds his legs and places his feet firmly on the ground. Azula notices, of course she does, and crosses her legs in response. Her relaxed posture practically oozing with smugness. 

“I don’t remember death,” he says quietly, playing with the steam in his hands and being all too aware of her presence. “I remember being struck and then waking up weeks later.”

“You’re afraid of being forgotten.”

Aang’s sharp intake cuts through the room but Azula doesn’t comment further; acting as though breaking him was as easy as breaking porcelain. She rises and walks across to one of the many dim lit areas of the room— oh does Aang mourn the lack of windows — and leans against the wall. “You turn,” she intones and Aang knows she’s still smirking even though her lips are veiled with shadows.

 _I should disengage._ He cools the steam back into tea and stands up. _Azula is dangerous._ He walks towards her. Closer. _I should let her win._ He takes a step too close, forcing Azula to lift her chin just a smidge, and then he pivots and leans against the adjacent wall in a parody of her earlier action. He sees her lips twitch with amusement.

Sometimes he likes a bit of danger. 

“Why are you afraid of Ba Sing Se?” asks Aang.

“I have many enemies in Ba Sing Se,” Azula says, loftily, “Can’t imagine why.”

He parries. “You’re avoiding the question.”

She reprises. “Be more specific. I don’t recall being afraid.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” says Aang with a smile and he feels oddly proud of the responding anger in her eyes. 

She walks forward, past him, and towards the tea set until the only thing Aang can see of her is the stiffness of her back and the slight curve of her jaw. She pauses to lift his cup. “I am the one who made the plan to burn down the Earth Kingdom with Sozin’s Comet,” says Azula with a quiet intensity to her voice as she takes his seat. 

“Why?” asks Aang, waiting, watching. 

Her eyes are cold. “Can’t you guess? For stubborn pests, simple solutions are best.”

“You’re not simple,” says Aang, trying to find his footsteps through the smoke.

“On the contrary, I find that my motivations are quite easy to read.”

She’s toying with me, he thinks as Azula reaches out and pours herself a cup of tea; the hot water spilling into the same cup she snatched out of his hands. “Does that answer you question?” she asks in a tone that implies she already knows his answer. 

Azula brings the cup to her lips. 

“You wanted to forget.”

She stills. 

Aang continues, “Happy memories…they hurt the most, don’t they? When you can never recreate them.” It’s something he as the last airbender knows all too well.

Azula stares at him. _Now who’s watching who?_ “If you say so,” she says, a beat too slow.

Aang grins. He’s getting good at this. 

Azula sets the cup down. “It’s my turn,” she says, watching, wary. “Come. Sit down next to me.”

He does so, much to Azula’s chagrin if her small frown is any indication. 

“Are you always like this?” she asks, gesturing in his general direction.

Aang tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like your element. Simple and confoundingly difficult to grasp.”

Aang shrugs and bites his tongue. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal that he enjoys their banter. 

Azula takes a sip of his tea and recoils. Aang bites his tongue harder. She scowls at him anyways and shoots her next question quickly, like an attack, dropping her pretense of requiring time to think her questions over. 

“Are you more afraid of me or my father?” 

He startles. “What kind of question is that?”

“Answer it.” She demands, and then purses her lips at his expression. “It’s a simple enough question.”

“No it isn’t! When did I make seem like I was afraid of you?”

“When did— make it _seem_?” Azula doesn’t splutter but her words are spit with an indignant ferocity. “You should be afraid of me! Have you lost all manner of self-preservation? Did you have any in the first place?”

“I don’t—” _I’m not afraid._

“You don’t think! Do you honestly believe that I wouldn’t—”

“Over your father?” shouts Aang, _You think I should fear you that much?_ “Do you really hate me that much?” 

Smoke curls around Azula’s fingers and yet her voice is terrifyingly restrained. “You keep watching me, and yet you haven’t spent a moment planning your rematch against the Fire Lord—”

“The Fire Lord isn’t a pretty girl,” retorts Aang. Then his words catch up to him. 

He clasps his hands over his mouth and stares wide-eyed at Azula. His mortification turning into shock as he watches her flush scarlet. _What a beautiful sight to die to_ , thinks Aang. The thought as intrusive as it is unbidden. Azula avoids his gaze. There’s an awkwardness to the air so heavy that Aang dearly wishes Death would hurry. He wants to say something to fix the silence but, clearly, he can’t trust his mouth. 

Azula twists a bang in her fingers and, still avoiding his gaze, says, “My father liked the plan.”

Mentions of her father were the equivalent of pouring a bucket of cold water over him. Aang’s tongue loosens. “What were your other plans?” he asks, tentatively. 

The flush retreats to only a bit of pink on her cheeks and a nervousness in her eyes that sharpen at his question. “It doesn’t matter,” she says coldly, “my father approved of my first plan immediately. It was the best one.”

“Because of your father’s approval?”

The twitch to her jaw is his only forewarning. Fire meets air in a dangerous combination that brightens the room.

“Why air?” asks Aang. 

Azula pauses in her attempt to kill him. “It would have been an ironic death. Fire?”

Aang gives a small shrug. He was mainly acting out of reflex. “It would have been poetic?” he offers. 

Azula scoffs and goes back to her seat, pouring herself a new cup of tea, and acting as though nothing happened.

Aang lets her. Whatever happened between them before, it was too close, too comfortable. This feels like he’s putting his coat back on.

He takes a seat next to her. Azula’s eyes flicker in his direction. Aang resolutely stares straight ahead. “Why do you sharpen your nails?”

He hears an amused huff and, despite himself, turns.

Azula’s lips curl in amusement. “You go from asking about my plans for Sozin’s Comet to asking about my nails?” 

“You went from drinking tea to attacking me,” points out Aang. 

“Hmmm. True.” She doesn’t apologize. “You’ll notice that I launch some of my attacks through my fingers. Lightning, for example. Focusing on a point releases more controlled, and therefore more intense, flames. Having pointed nails simply help with that, and it can also be useful in close combat.” A pause. This time, it’s Azula who looks away, staring down at the table with a small frown.

“What was life like at the Air Temples?” 

He stares.

“You’re the only first hand account left. It’s natural that I would be curious,” defends Azula. 

“No, it’s— you can ask me for stories any time.”

Azula says nothing.

Aang leans back, folds his hands over his chest, and _almost_ closes his eyes. “When the leaves fell the Monks would make this spiced apple cider…” 

He waits, but Azula doesn’t interrupt, and so he fills their air with his memories.

* * *

“I don’t understand Azula,” says Aang.

“Story of my life,” mutters Zuko. He raises the flame in his hand. “Here, I think this is the spot.” 

Aang crouches and places his hand on the ground. “Huh, Toph was right. I can’t sense anything through this earth.” He squints into the tunnel. “Any idea how far down this goes?”

“Only one way to find out,” says Zuko. He starts moving forward then he stops. “Actually, you should go first since you’re good at setting off traps.”

“Good thinking.”

They walk through the tunnel for a bit. 

“Aang?”

“Yeah?”

“Did Azula do something?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you didn’t understand her. It sounded like she did something.” Zuko shrugs awkwardly. “I’m learning how to be Fire Lord, and a lot of it is conflict resolution so, if you, you know, need a conflict resolved. Maybe I can help?”

“Thanks Zuko, but it’s not so much of a conflict as it is her in general.” Aang sighs. “Do you think Azula lies to herself?”

“Uh…sure?” Zuko winces. “Hey look a door!”

“Huh.” Aang stares at the giant brass door. “Why do you think it’s here?”

“I don’t know but I bet it’s related to the sickness of Ba Sing Se,” says Zuko, trying to open the door. “It’s locked.”

“Maybe this symbol on it is a clue.” Aang made his fire brighter. “I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

“You have, sorta,” says Zuko, “that’s Uncle’s White Lotus symbol, except in red.”


	23. Chapter 23

Metalbending the delicate and complex inner workings of a lock requires deep concentration and complete silence. 

“I should have known you were behind this!” shouts the waterbender. 

_As if one Zuzu wasn’t bad enough._ Azula scowls, “If I were, then I wouldn’t be trying to free you.” 

“Maybe you’re just trying to get me to trust you.”

They stare at each other.

“Okay, that was a stupid idea,” admits the waterbender.

“No, really?” Azula says dryly, turning her attention back to the lock. 

“But if you’re not behind this then who is? And do you know where the others are?”

“No, but we can find the answers to these questions if you _stop talking_.”

The waterbender furrows her brows. “Can’t you just firebend it away?”

Azula growls. “Do you want to be rescued or not?”

The brows furrow further. “Why _are_ you rescuing me?”

“I have no idea,” says Azula, melting the lock. “There. Happy now?”

“They took my waterskin.”

“A pity your element is so weak.”

“I’ll teach you my element if you help me get it back and find the others.”

Azula tilts her head in response.

The waterbender shrugs. “You were going to learn it anyways and I’m a better teacher than Aang.” 

“Fine, but only if we talk to each other as little as possible.” 

“Fine by me.”

* * *

Underground, with strangely unrelenting stone, a surprise confrontation could easily turn into a burial. They move quietly, half expecting to run into a sea of guards after every corner. 

Azula presses her hand against the wall. “I can’t sense anything through this earth.”

“Are you sure it’s the earth?” whispers the waterbender with a pointed sneer.

“You shouldn’t doubt my bending abilities, considering I successfully used them to kill your friend.”

“You are _so lucky_ I don’t have my waterskin.” 

* * *

“Wait,” says the waterbender, “doesn’t this layout match the inside of a Fire Nation ship?” 

“A Fire Nation ship made of earth?” 

“I’ve been in enough Fire Nation ships to be able to recognize one,” retorts the waterbender. She leans against the wall. “Huh, that’s strange.”

“What?”

“This earth feels like water.” 

“That would explain why I can’t sense through it…” Azula raises a hand to her chin. “If this is a replica of a Fire Nation ship, then your waterskin will be this way.” 

* * *

“It’s a bit weird that we haven’t run into anyone isn’t it?”

Azula reluctantly nods. “Did you find out what caused the sickness?”

“It’s not a disease, so a spirit or a man-made illness.”

“Man-made?”

“Like an injection. How were you captured?” 

“Red gas. You?”

“The same.”

The two girls share a brief moment of silence. 

“Why didn’t the gas kill us?” asks the waterbender.

“I assumed it was because I reduced my intake with airbending. Otherwise, either we’re bait for Aang or there’s an ambush waiting for us up ahead.”

“In that case, there may be a water pipe in the wall over here. See if you can burn through to it.”

* * *

“Zuko hasn’t written back yet.”

Azula remains silent. Red gas could fill these close corridors faster than they could bend. 

The waterbender presses on. “Do you think he’s okay?”

 _It doesn’t matter._ No, if she says that then the waterbender will raise her voice, attracting attention, and potentially returning Azula to her father as either a corpse or a failure. Azula can't risk that. She won't.

Azula lies, “I’m sure Zuko is fine.”

“Really?”

“Of course, he is your soulmate after all.” Azula holds up a hand. _Listen._

Dull footsteps crescendo in harmony before fading away. 

“Are you worried about your soulmate?” whispers the waterbender. 

Azula doesn’t lie this time. “No. Aang can handle himself.” Unlike Zuzu, Aang wasn’t prone to reckless acts. Then again…

Azula glances at the waterbender arms long enough to confirm that there’s no answering scrawl. She looks back up, only to catch the waterbender watching her with a curious gaze.

“It doesn’t matter,” says Azula, cutting off whatever pitying remark the waterbender was going to make, “whether they’re dead or not. We can’t do anything about it.”

If Zuko had died at sea Azula would have been one of the last to know.

That thought, _that weakness_ , is quickly burned from her mind and Azula refocuses on the task at hand.

“We’ll need to take them down quickly, that gas will give them an advantage in closed spaces,” warns Azula. 

The waterbender nods and remains silent. 

* * *

“Azula, were those Dai Li agents firebending?”

“Yes.”

“And earthbending?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know—”

“No I don’t.”

“Cover me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have midterms. Tired. Gimme feedback or crits.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That new chapter apprehension. o((⊙﹏⊙))o  
> May be editing this chapter some more depending on mood and general feedback.

“Is everyone okay? Zuko was hit by some darts—”

Katara rushes past him. “When did he lose consciousness? Was it instant? How long has he been out? Do you have one of the darts?”

Aang answers the questions as best as he can. He watches Katara tend to Zuko, the quiet concentration in her face, the tenderness of her gaze. 

“I don’t think it was lethal, and I think I was able to bloodbend most of the poison out,” assures Aang, “We’re lucky it was a full moon—” 

“We need to go back,” interjects Azula, not sparing her brother a glance. “Now would be the best time to find information, they’ll be expecting us to stay hidden.” 

“You guys go. I’ll stay with Zuko,” says Katara with finality. 

Aang turns to the others. “Toph?”

Toph kicks at the floor. “I’ll stay.” 

“I’m glad, Prince Zuko would benefit from having the protection of the world’s strongest earth bender,” says Iroh comfortingly, “Perhaps we’ll even figure out how to turn their strange water-earth against them.” 

“If anyone can it’s Sifu Toph,” affirms Aang. “Sokka?”

“I’m coming, I want answers.”

“Azula?”

“Obviously. It’s my plan.”

“Great.” Aang turns back. Katara hasn’t looked up. There’s a nettle lodged in his heart, but Aang shakes it loose. He’s better than this. 

“We’ll be back by sunset.”

* * *

“The Dai Li are loyal to power alone,” hisses Azula. “Asking them for information like beggars won’t grant us anything besides death.”

“Does the oh so might Phoenix King hold power?” mocks Sokka. “I say it’s worth a shot. What do you think, Aang? Since, that’s right, you defeated him!”

“Um—”

“You’re aware the Phoenix King regained his bending? Meaning, that’s right, he’s not as defenseless as a water tribe idiot with a stick,” says Azula, smirking when Sokka’s expression contorts into fear.

“What? How! Is that why the Dai Li can double bend?”

Aang tries again. “Maybe the Dai Li are double benders too and they have firebenders as their soulmates?”

Sokka frowns. “Possible but unlikely. The Dai Li figured out a way to grant people firebending...” He narrows his eyes at Azula. “Is your father behind all this?” 

Azula looks at Sokka with an unimpressed look she usually reserves for Zuko. “You said you were the ideas guy. Here’s an idea, has my father ever commanded the Dai Li? Is he at all subtle?”

“Maybe he was playing the long con,” grumbles Sokka, “maybe he was using the Dai Li all along but you never knew because he never—”

“ **I was always loyal to him.** ” 

—told you” finishes Sokka with a yelp. 

Azula shifts her stance. 

Aang intervenes. “ _Azula._ ” There are prickles in his gut from the way she stares at him. 

“No more formalities?” she purrs. 

“Who’s the bigger threat: the Dai Li or the Red Lotus?”

“They’re both working together,” says Sokka, “The red gas is from the Red Lotus. Red to red, it makes thematic sense,” he waves his hand in a casual, circular motion, “There’s probably a connection between it, weird spirit stuff, and firebending.” 

“Maybe not. The Dai Li could be held hostage,” argues Azula. “I’ll grant you the connection but I doubt it is an equal partnership.” 

“Of course it’s not. The Fire Lord is power hungry.” 

“If he’s behind this then why wasn’t Iroh attacked?” 

“Who else would give _firebending_ to the _Dai Li_?”

Aang watches them bicker back and forth. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

* * *

The Dai Li cut an imposing figure, standing around the gates of Ba Sing Se like a flock of ominous statues. 

Aang wonders if anyone asked them to leave. Perhaps someone had and that small act had brought upon the sickness of Ba Sing Se as retaliation. Or, as demoralizing as the thought may be, perhaps the people of Ba Sing Se never asked the Dai Li to leave. Perhaps they, like so many others, heard of the numerous strange occurrences outside of the city, and sought protection from the Dai Li over the Avatar. 

Aang doesn’t blame them. They’re afraid and he hasn’t provided any answers, any comfort, any hope; and although being so easily discarded leaves a heavy and bitter taste on his tongue, he understands. 

Aang wishes he was a better Avatar too. 

* * *

“Make yourself useful and come up with a plan to extract information from the guards,” snaps Azula, turning back to— 

“Where’s Aang?” she asks, only to follow her companions line of sight towards the Dai Li guards. “He wouldn’t.” 

Sokka groans and readies his weapon. “He would.” 

* * *

Aang can pinpoint the exact moment Azula realizes what he was doing by the feeling of two pinpricks of heat on the back of his neck. 

It doesn’t stop him from moving towards the guards.

Aang knows he’s not perfect. That he can’t make plans like Sokka. That he doesn’t know how to fix this particular mess but…

Aang sighs.

He has to do _something_.

Aang raises his hand in greeting. “Hi!”

* * *

Sokka facepalms.

* * *

The Dai Li stare at Aang in stony silence before moving as one. 

Aang prepares to dodge but instead of sending a boulder or fireball his way, the Dai Li hold out a plain, unmarked letter. 

“Um, thanks?”

“We must return to the village. The people there are sick,” they say in unison before walking away. 

“Okay…that was weird…” He opens the letter and squints. “Location of Cure?” 

Huh. Maybe he was better at this than he thought. 

* * *

“That was incredibly stupid,” scolds Azula. 

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” says Aang. He responds to Azula’s glare with his most innocent smile. 

“…and it’s obviously a trap. One with a handwritten invitation,” continues Azula with a sneer. 

He shrugs. “What do you think, Sokka?”

Sokka gives him an odd look.

“Sokka?” repeats Aang.

“It is suspiciously trap-like,” says Sokka after a pause, “but it’s not like we have any leads here. We might as well check it out. How far away is it?” 

“It’s a bit far,” admits Aang.

“Leave Uncle here,” suggests Azula with a cold smile. “He can gather intel and if he’s not dead by the time we get back then we’ll have proof that my father wasn’t behind this particular endeavor.” 

Aang frowns. “No, I don’t want anyone dead.”

Sokka chews on his bottom lip. “…I hate to say it but I agree with Azula.” He quickly holds up his hands in a placating gesture and adds,“We want someone behind in case we all get captured and Iroh is a good choice.”

Aang looks to Azula.

“He might not die,” relents Azula, “Uncle is very good at avoiding death. I can personally attest to it.”

“Okay,” Aang says, nodding, “If the others agree then we’ll go with your plan.”   
  
“Aang,” says Sokka with an uneasy grimace, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

* * *

“Hey, I know you like to see the good in people, and I respect that, but I think you’re getting a little too comfortable around Azula.” 

Aang tenses. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you’re being very nice to her, and I get that that’s your thing, but—” Sokka makes a shrugging motion. “Look, just don’t lower your guard around her. Okay?” 

“I don’t—” starts Aang but he quickly cuts himself off. He doesn’t know how to explain the game they play. “She’s my soulmate,” he says instead, hoping that Sokka will understand. 

“Yeah, but Azula doesn’t recognize you as her soulmate,” counters Sokka, “She only cares about the double bending. And we’re stupidly teaching her how to bend.” 

“We don’t want her to accidentally hurt others with my bending.”

“Accidentally?”

“We’re on the same side. She doesn’t want the world to end. Ozai does. 

“Okay, and what happens when we’re not on the same side? When her father is like, Oh! I’ve _changed_ my mind. I may be messing around with the spirit world but, good news my loyal and dutiful daughter, I found a way to end the world for everyone _but_ the Fire Nation.” 

Sokka crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “You know, like how he was with Sozin’s Comet? When Azula _killed_ you?” 

“What are you suggesting?” asks Aang, his voice strained, “That I let her father kill her in return?”

“We don’t know for sure that he’ll do that, and anyways, Azula can fend for herself. Maybe we should start considering that as an option.” 

“She’s my soulmate.” He says again, because it should mean something.   
  
“I know what it’s like to lose a soulmate,” says Sokka, rubbing his bandaged wrist, “I know how much it hurts.”

 _No you don’t._ “I know,” says Aang. _I thought my soulmate died a hundred years ago._ “I need some time to think about this.” 

Sokka lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I’m just saying to consider the possibility. Who knows, maybe I’m wrong. It happens occasionally.” 

“Maybe.”


	25. Chapter 25

“…and they didn’t attack you?” clarifies the waterbender. 

“Nope. They just gave me this paper telling me where I could find a cure,” says Aang with a foolish smile. 

The waterbender rubs her hands. “Well, that’s good I suppose—”

“Do you mind? I wish to see my brother,” says Azula, striding forward.

The waterbender squares her shoulders and arrogantly steps in between her and the door to their makeshift infirmary. “What do you want to say to them?” she demands.

“Family matters,” replies Azula with a cold smile. “Zuzu did almost die after all.”

The waterbender looks to Aang and then back to her. “Five minutes.”

* * *

“It’s a trap, Uncle,” scolds Zuko. Then he spots her. “Azula…” he says warily. “What do you want?”

There it is. That fear. Zuzu could never wear a mask for very long. 

“It’s alright, Zuzu,” she replies in a too sweet voice accompanied with a perfect smile that never failed to make him tense. “I can handle myself.”

It’s not an answer to his question, but the guilt ripples through him and holds his tongue. Poor Zuzu. A puppet who could never see his strings.

 _What a wretched existence you must live_ , thinks Azula before turning her smile towards Uncle. 

Uncle Iroh doesn’t return her smile. He never does. He’ll be guarding Zuzu until she leaves. Perfect.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Uncle?” asks Azula.

Uncle frowns. “I trust the Avatar to be able to handle himself,” he says.

_Meaning you trust him to be able to handle me._

Azula represses the urge to smirk. _  
_

Then there is a shift. Something that causes Uncle to wince and add, “and I trust you to be able to defend yourself.”

She blinks. _Since when?_ And shakes her head. “You and Zuzu should be more worried about your own capabilities. The Red Lotus, or whatever they call themselves, may pick you two off. An old man and an invalid are easy targets.” 

Zuzu scowls at her and Azula takes it as her cue to leave.

_Fools._

* * *

The others were outside, packing supplies for the journey ahead. Azula grabs her bag, and only her bag, and leaps onto the beast’s back with a flourish of wind. 

The nonbender below mutters, “Shouldn’t have taught her how to airbend.”

Azula smirks. 

“She had already picked up the basics on her own,” replies Aang with a shrug, “She’s a natural.”

Her smirk freezes in place. 

It’s not the words themselves but the way he said them; as though he was genuinely happy that she, daughter of Ozai, blood of Sozin, could use the bending of the very people her family had wiped out. As if he’d forgotten the scar she’d personally given him. 

Azula clenches her hands into fists, anger surging through her veins. 

_One element. One element left._

She glares down at his stupid bald head. 

_How **dare** you underestimate me._

To her surprise, he looks up and catches her glaring. 

Then, to her greater surprise, he waves and joins her on the saddle.

Azula seethes with silent fury as she waits for the Avatar to explain himself. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

She blinks slowly. The fury dissipating into bewilderment. “Excuse me?”

He gives a light shrug. “Things have been confusing lately.”

 _An understatement._ “Don’t underestimate me, Avatar,” she says sharply. 

Now it’s his turn to blink in confusion. “When did I do that?” he asks, “and I like it when you call me Aang.”

 _You must be joking,_ thinks Azula. “I’m fine,” she sneers, “worry about the others. Your ragtag group is hardly inspiring confidence.”

He sighs and hugs his knees close to his chest. “I know.”

“I expected better.” She says, and waits for Aang to say something else, but he remains uncharacteristically morose. “Don’t tell me you’ve given up,” she prods. 

He sighs again. “I don’t think I _can_ give up, but it would be nice if things started making sense.”

 _Heavy weighs the title._ “Did the spirit world ever make sense?” she asks. 

“Somewhat. I mean, usually they would have a reason for interfering with our world and I don’t think they’ve ever interfered in this great a number before.” 

“Hm.”

Bei Fong calls out from below, “Twinkletoes, get your butt over here and help us!” 

“Got to go,” he says with another wave and then he’s gone.

Azula glares at the now empty space.

* * *

The beast is slower than she expected, or perhaps it was a side effect of her thoughts moving so quickly. 

_Everything has to be perfect._

Her father will kill her otherwise. Iroh and Zuko were in Ba Sing Se. She could send a message to father alerting him of their vulnerability and location, but that still left too much room for error. When she and the Avatar’s posse had followed the trail of nonsense into Ba Sing Se, her Uncle was there waiting for them, seemingly hiding from the Phoenix King. 

_The same trick won’t work twice, Uncle._

Azula would not be fooled again into thinking her Uncle was harmless. The Dragon of the West was likely in Ba Sing Se to contact his White Lotus allies, and was merely disguising the movement as a retreat. It’s what she would have done. 

But the sickness…

Azula frowns. While the Red Lotus could very well be some offset group of the White Lotus, there didn’t seem to be any advantageous reason to poison the civilians. 

_Perhaps it was to test the red gas?_

But against whom? And why leave a note instead of launching a surprise attack with the Dai Li, the red gas, and the strange water-earth? 

Azula’s frown deepens. Nothing was making sense! While the sickness, water-earth, and even, potentially, the strange behavior of the Dai Li could be explained by spirits interfering and creating chaos, it didn’t reveal who their opponents were, and, more importantly, what they were after. 

Azula looks to the front of the beast. _Perhaps it’s not a what they’re after but a who._ The note was given to the Avatar after all, and he was the only one who wasn’t attacked. Without him, the spirits could do whatever they pleased and so too could any group looking to gain. 

“Is something wrong, Princess?” 

_How does he always know when I’m watching him?_

“This is a trap for you specifically,” says Azula, ignoring the muttered “Well, duh!” from the nonbender and the eye rolls from the others to focus on the back of Aang’s shoulders. “The rest of us were only attacked as a test,” she adds, “they wanted to see how easy it would be to isolate you, and clearly it wasn’t easy enough. This note is our opponent shifting strategies.” 

His shoulders remain pleasantly well-centered instead of tensing or hunching over. 

“I still have to go,” he says at last. “In case there’s a cure.”

_A noble fool._

“It’s not foolish to be kind,” says her mother, and the wind almost feels like fingers brushing through her hair. Almost.

 _Funny. I didn’t think I was stressed._

Azula pointedly stares at a passing cloud. She would have to get some rest. Then, she would begin learning waterbending immediately. She wasn’t a master of any of the other elements yet, but maybe…

Azula shakes the thought away. No. She had to be perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback please. Hope this clarifies the plot a bit.


	26. Chapter 26

Aang runs his thumb across the edges of the note. He glances over his shoulder at his morose companions and voices his thoughts.

“There’s hope. Someone sent us this note either because they’ve found a cure, or because they know that we can stop them.”

His observation brings weak smiles and one indifferent silence. 

“Yeah! We already defeated the Fire Lord once. We can do so again,” says Sokka. 

“Are you sure it’s the Fire Lord? There’s a distinct lack of fire,” points out Toph before shrugging and adding, “A face doesn’t need a name to be punched, but it would be nice to know beforehand.” 

Aang looks down at the reins. They’ll have to land soon. He twists the old leather in his hands, thinking back on their previous encounters. 

“Now that I think about it,” he says, carefully, “the Dai Li felt strange. Maybe spirit-like.” 

“Strange?”

“Maybe?”

“Spirit-like?”

Aang shrugs dejectedly. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “They looked normal but the way they acted was odd. Like they were reading a script. It didn’t seem fully human.” 

“Well,” says Katara after a nervous pause, “we’re going to find out exactly what’s wrong. And then we’ll fix it.”

Aang gives a reassuring nod in return, his eyes passing over a seemingly sleeping Princess Azula. 

_I hope it’s not your father,_ he thinks as he signals for Appa to land. 

* * *

It's Sokka’s turn to cook. The girls are busy training or, in Toph’s case, making sure no one kills each other while training. Azula is on waterbending now. 

Aang busies himself with the firewood. Sokka’s earlier warnings about teaching Azula bending echoing in his ear. 

He shakes his head.

_First we’ll find out what’s going on. Then we’ll make a decision._

Of course, it may be too late by then. 

Aang snaps the twigs into smaller kindling.

Scratch that. It will definitely be too late by then. 

Aang sighs, looks down at the pile of wood, and decides to gather more. _It could be a cold night,_ he reasons, and he needs some time alone with his thoughts. 

He lifts himself into the trees on a single breath, his feet making only the briefest of touches on the rough bark and brittle branches of the forest as he dances through the leaves. The faint rustles he makes is such a lonely sound accompanied only by the faint twinge in his back. 

_Azula is dangerous. Terrifyingly dangerous. Even more so now with the addition of double bending. Can I afford to trust her?_

Aang drops down onto the ground and starts picking up the broken pieces of wood scattered across the forest floor. 

Katara had asked him about soulmates. Back when she didn’t know he was the Avatar. She was, is, enamored by the idea of true love. _It was a form of hope,_ she had said, _a reason to keep going_. 

He gathers the wood in his arms. His mind had been made up from the beginning. Regardless of the danger, Aang will not be the one to severe the faint thread of trust between him and Azula. It may very well be him foolishly longing for the impossible, but these sort of titles: Soulmate. Airbender. Princess. Avatar. They were more fragile than they appeared. He would know.

The last airbender starts a fire. 

* * *

It’s a cold night. The warmth of the campfire draws everyone closer, and Aang takes time to appreciate the moment.

“So,” he says, pleasantly, “how was the waterbending lesson?” 

“Fine,” says Katara a bit too quickly and accompanied by a wince. “Waterbending is difficult.”

_Ah._

Aang can feel the slight rise in temperature of the air around them, but Azula remains deadly quiet.

He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on her unlit hands. Zuko was a buffer. Zuko was gone. Azula was now surrounded by strangers and Aang wasn’t sure how she’d react. Azula keeps her emotions as guarded and well-controlled as her flames. 

“How difficult can it be when Aang’s already mastered it?” asks Sokka. Either he’s oblivious to the danger or this is Sokka’s way of proving his point. That Aang was too comfortable. 

He reflexively glances upwards, but Azula’s expression is painted porcelain and there’s nothing in her eyes besides a reflection.

His eyes linger there anyways. Waiting for the crack, but Azula says nothing. 

“Bending’s difficult. Not that you would know anything about that,” retorts Toph. There’s a slight edge in her voice and a wariness to Katara that has Aang wondering exactly what went down during the waterbending lesson. 

“Try using a boomerang,” says Sokka, along with something else that Aang doesn’t quite catch; too busy balancing the thoughts in his mind like marbles in his hand. 

There are platitudes he could say, but Azula would see through them. Aang himself had learned waterbending quickly. Beyond that, any words of encouragement or anecdotes about his struggles with earthbending would be seen as pity. 

Aang frowns as his eyes travel back down to her hands. 

_You’re so **frustrating**._

He wishes he could still go to Gyatso for advice. 

“Aang?”

Aang snaps out of his thoughts and looks around. He’s missed part of a conversation. “Sorry, Sokka. I wasn’t listening. What did you say?”

Sokka opens his mouth as if to say something but then closes it. “Nevermind. My goal is to—”

“Let me guess,” says Azula cutting off Sokka. “You’re oh so very predictable.”

Sokka tenses his jaw before relaxing and saying, albeit grudgingly, “Go ahead.” 

“Hmmm. Train to be the next Chief of the Southern Water Tribe?” 

“How did—” 

“You should really try to be less predictable. It’s a weakness your enemies could exploit,” mocks Azula.

“It’s a good goal,” says Aang, because it is. Sokka smiles at him. 

“Thanks, Aang. We were talking about what we wanted to do in the future.”

“I was thinking of rejoining the fighting ring, or making my own if no one is brave enough to fight against the greatest earthbender in the world,” offers Toph. 

“I’m still deciding,” adds Katara, playing with her hair. “There’s going to be so much to do once we return home." She then looks at him expectantly and asks, "What about you, Aang?”

“Avatar duties,” he says with a shrug, then he glances away and, for a brief moment, his eyes lock with Azula’s. 

_Is this what she was like during the Agni Kai?_ thinks Aang, because Azula is staring at him and there’s a crack in her armor. 

“Princess?”

She blinks, and the moment passes. 

“Only one heir rules. The second is forgotten,” recites Azula, before smirking and adding, “Although, I could launch a military campaign as per family tradition. Who knows?” 

_We both have titles to bear._

Aang winces and heeds off the bickering she no doubt intended to cause with a joking, “I don’t know about that. You’re pretty hard to forget.”

She gives him an indiscernible look in return before dryly saying, “And here I was wondering if you had forgotten that lightning bolt entirely.”

The group tenses around him. He swallows.

“It’s a part of me now,” he says honestly, and either he had glanced involuntarily at her soulmark or Azula was thinking the exact same thing as him, because she then crosses her arms, hiding the soulmark underneath her sleeves. 

It bothers him. 


	27. Chapter 27

The water is cold but Azula will not warm herself. She keeps her fire at bay and forces her eyes to remain open, staring at the dark waters around her, as she repeats the motions the waterbender had shown her earlier. 

The water remains unchanged aside from the stray pockets of air bubbling out of her mouth and striking against the darkness. 

It was past sunset. Waterbenders were stronger in the night. So why couldn’t she get this?

Azula brings her hands closer, relying on the stray shards of moonlight to see, and tries again.

_Water is the element of change._

Azula ignores the burning in her lungs. There was so little time. 

_I think we should take a break. Maybe a little relaxation will help._

Her father. He had to forgive her. He had to.

_Hey, chill out. Even Sweetness didn’t learn waterbending in a day.  
_

Doublebending with the Avatar. It wasn’t enough. She had to do better.

_Azula? Azula!_

She repeats the motions, imploring the water to coalesce around her hands, when her body began to panic. 

Azula breaks the surface of the lake and breathes in deeply; the night air crisp with shame, before tilting her head up to the sky and letting her mouth burn with vibrant flames.

_It wasn’t enough._

If Azula met her her father now there was no guarantee he wouldn’t kill her. She was a threat. A monster. 

She spies a shape in the darkness.

 _Mother. Of course._

Azula makes her way closer to the bank, ignoring the shrouded apparition, until the clouds part and she realizes the apparition wasn’t an apparition at all but a figure. 

The Avatar had witnessed her failure.

Azula thinks briefly about going back into the lake and letting herself drown but, alas, she had already made her way into waters shallow enough for her legs to begin to shake from exhaustion. 

“Came to gawk?” she calls with a defiant lift of her chin. 

“No.” He pauses and Azula watches in envy as he effortlessly glides across the water. 

He reaches her, the water coalescing into a solid surface beneath his feet, and holds out his hand. 

She stares at it in silence.

“I can teach you,” he offers in a voice devoid of judgment and a face framed by moonlight.

“Why?”

* * *

She asks him why and he notices her lips tremble.

It wasn’t because of his offer. Azula asked her question with a hard voice and a sneer. No, she was trembling because she was cold and for some reason she chose not to warm herself up.

Aang frowns, debating on whether he should ask.

“I asked you a question, _Avatar_ —” 

“Why are you cold?”

She glares at him. The moonlight cutting through her eyes and illuminating her features. 

_Winter’s grave,_ thinks Aang, because her skin looked cold and her eyes remind him of tree bark stripped by winter wind.

“Training,” she replies curtly and Aang takes a sharp breath. 

_"This isn’t right!"_ is what he wants to say, but those words would be battered away easily and in so many ways. 

_"You’re killing yourself,"_ is what he thinks next, but that’s not right either because Azula isn’t dead, and yes technically he had died and wasn’t one to talk but—

“Why not?” he hedges, and watches her lips curl even as they shake.

“You do realize I’m going to k-kill you once this is over?” she says, biting down harshly on her lip before staring at him with cold eyes and with a colder tone saying, “we’re enemies.”

“Then you should learn all you can,” he says pointedly, “because right now you’re scared to take my hand.”

* * *

 _Vexing,_ thinks Azula with a glare as she grabs his hand.

_Why are you being kind when you know the risks?_

He falls into the water. Falls in the way only an airbender can; with more poise and grace than gravity allowed. 

His feet dip into the water briefly before it swirls around him, them, picking them up effortlessly and distributing their weight until they’re standing with nary a ripple underneath. 

His hand settles on her waist.

* * *

 _She’s cold,_ he thinks, and Aang moves his hand further along to her back, heating up his skin and subtly pressing her closer to him.

Her hands steam and she lifts the one not held an places it against the crook of his neck in a warning.

It gives him an idea.

* * *

“Dance with me,” he says, and Azula can only stare. 

“It will help you learn waterbending,” he explains, moving the hand behind her back in a way that causes the water underneath them to swell slightly. 

_He’s warm,_ thinks Azula as she holds onto him for balance.

“You didn’t think this through,” she says accusingly, glancing down at the choppy water. “I’ll strike you with lightning again if you drop me,” she warns, but the threat is weakened by her last shivers and she is not surprised when he simply smiles in response. 

“Press your feet against mine. Keep them close.” He says, and Azula follows his suggestions. It is dark and she is utterly exhausted. No one would see her lean against him and, if she ends up learning how to waterbend after this, she doesn’t particularly care if they did. 

“Lead the way,” she says. 

* * *

_A dance with my soulmate. No problem_.

Aang adjusts his grip, palm facing palm, and focuses on waterbending, making sure the water will hold taut, before carefully moving across the surface, unsure of his steps.

A sliver of moonlight catches her soulmark, making the blue arrows shimmer.

 _It looks good on her,_ he decides evenly, ignoring the way his heart hammers in his chest. 

This is not a fairy tale.

She is not in love with him, and while Aang would be willing to risk himself for love he is not willing to risk the world. 

But he will allow himself to hope.

“Try to focus less on your bending and more on enjoying the moment,” he advises, hoping that if he cannot change her loyalty then he can, at the very least, make her consider the possibilities. 

* * *

_Enjoy the moment?_ thinks Azula skeptically as she hurriedly tries to copy his movements in the dark. _How am I supposed to do that?_ She could be meeting her father in weeks, if not days, and what would she say? _“I know my soulmate is the Avatar. I know I cost you the throne. I’m sorry.”_ She would burn herself for such a pitiful display.

* * *

 _She’s frowning._ Not at him but at her feet. So, he slows his steps. Adjusting; moving with her instead of forcing her to bend.

Then she scoffs at him, so he decides to pick up the pace.

* * *

There’s wind in her hair. _Air nomad._

He’s moving without looking and it’s not a dance she’s been taught, so it’s either a peasant abomination, a informal amalgamation— 

He spins her across choppy waters

— a **brave** informal amalgamation of dance moves, corrects Azula as she finds herself pressed frustratingly close to his chest, or it was a forgotten airbender dance. 

She clears her throat as the water laps at her ankles.

* * *

“How were you taught this dance?”

Aang slows, refocusing on his steps, as he ponders the question.

“I wasn’t taught,” he says and feels her innocently place her hand back against her neck. He huffs, and tries to think back further for an answer that will satisfy Azula.

“Dancing was a way to express ourselves. It was something you did when you felt like it, not something that you were taught,” he says at last, swaying on small waves.

Her hand moves from his neck to rest formally on his shoulder.

“What about you?” he asks. 

* * *

“Academy,” she replies curtly, focusing on moving the water around her, and not on the way they easily fit together.

_Soulmates. Nothing more than biology and desperation._

They were…compatible, she’d admit as the moonlight occasionally illuminates his sinewy muscles. 

However, she would not betray her Nation, her _father_ , for him solely because their souls matched. That would be ridiculous.

Azula closes her eyes and tries to move the water with them. 

_It didn’t mean anything._

The water ripples in reply.

Azula could cheer. The water is _finally_ responding to her. It’s not enough, the partly ripple is a far cry from mastery, but she feels like cheering all the same. 

* * *

“Did that help?” asks Aang when they reach the sandy banks and his hands drift back to his sides. 

Azula stares through him and he fidgets, _smoldering copper_ , as the silence loops around them.

“The stars,” says Azula carefully, breaking the silence. “Are the stars the same now as they were in the past?”

He looks up and carefully counts the sky; comparing it to the memories he has of flying under the stars with people who now rest without graves.

“It’s the same,” he says with no small measure of relief, but Azula is no longer there; leaving him with the stars in the sky and a lungful of burning questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, you guys wanted a slow burn and you're going to suffer through a slow burn. Almost at the end of the enemies to allies mark and will move from there to allies to friends. Busy so updates will be slow.


	28. PSA

**PSA**

This fanfic is being targeted by a BNF (a Big Name Fan) also known as a popular fandom blog on Tumblr.com. This blogger has claimed that this fanfic has plagiarized scenes and that I have stalked and harassed them on anon. **These claims are simply untrue. I have refuted them in depth here:[Link](https://writebecauseyoucannotbreathe.tumblr.com/post/635807053340950528/so-irresitible-revolution-posted-this-and-you)**

If you have any other questions or seek clarification please comment on this chapter and I will try my best to clear any doubt. 

**_The blogger is an academic bully. Keep that in mind if you choose to engage._ **

No idea what their followers believe 🙃 but I've done my part. I have since blocked them and am moving on from the debacle.

* * *


	29. Chapter 29

_He’s restless,_ thinks Azula as she watches Aang fidget with the reins.

She doesn’t comment, focusing instead on drawing moisture from the surrounding clouds. Pride tugs at her chest as droplets coalesce into an orb, only to disappear just as quickly. 

Azula hasn’t mastered waterbending, or earthbending, or any element besides fire. The element she has come closest to mastery is, ironically, air. The element her father would hate the most. A sign of disloyalty.

Earthbending. There were rough patches, the Dai Li were better benders, but at least she could substitute her flaws in earthbending with a meager metal trick. But waterbending?

Azula stared at the dew drops in her palm before calmly closing her hand into a fist.

She would have to find some way to distract her father. To avoid being called upon for a full demonstration of her doublebending abilities. 

_What if he wants me to go into the Avatar State?_ Thinks Azula with alarm. _Could thinking about mother work twice? And, even if it did, I have no control over the Avatar State. It's more a hindrance than anything. What if—_ Azula shakes her head. The fear fading from her system and being replaced by a measured self-assuredness. 

There was no point in stressing herself out before they’d even reached their destination. Her father could be absent. The possibility remained that he wasn't directly behind the sickness of Ba Sing Se, and, if that was the case, then Azula had time. 

_If not..._

Azula glances back at the twisted reins in his hands. The warped leather mocking her through his unerringly pleasant demeanor.

_Soulmates. Mirrors. Flaws._

“I thought this beast would be faster,” she drawls, drawing him away from his thoughts.

Aang’s hands relax. “Zuko said the same thing.”

 _Curse you Zuzu,_ thinks Azula with a suffering sigh as the others share a chuckle at her expense.

He untwists the leather. “We’re here.”

* * *

Appa’s feet slowly sink into the squishy, waterlogged ground, and he voices displeasure at his wet feet and dirtied fur. 

Aang pats his head sympathetically while scanning the surroundings for an ambush.

There are too many hiding places. The gnarled roots distorting sight. The heavy waters distorting sound. 

Aang boldly calls out against the cacophony of insects and amphibians. ““Hello? Did someone call for the Avatar?”

“I didn’t expect you to show,” rasps a woman’s voice. 

Aang looks up and spots a solitary figure moving amongst the mangroves.

 _Human or Spirit?_ wonders Aang. He hears the others shift and raises a hand.

“I’m here,” he says with far more confidence than he feels. “Do you have a cure?”

A woman, scarcely more than a decade older than the group, drops down in front of him and says, with a smile, “I do.”

* * *

 _Southern Water Tribe?_ Guesses Azula, taking in the woman’s attire. _No, the other two didn’t recognize her and she’s not wearing a water pouch. Northern. Healer._

She relaxes, minutely, and disembarks with the others as Aang floats down ahead and begins to prattle to the woman. His whole demeanor lighting up, and at what? The mere possibility of helping others?

Azula rolls her eyes. _Guru Goody-Goody indeed,_ and absentmindedly scratches the back of her wrist. The action garnering unwanted attention.

“The Avatar’s Soulmate!” exclaims the woman with a hungry gleam in her eyes. “My, aren’t I lucky?” 

Azula bristles at being referred to in such a traitorous manner but before she can _kindly_ _correct_ the woman, Aang steps in between them. 

* * *

“It’s complicated,” says Aang, raising his hands in an appeasing gesture and dearly hoping that Azula wasn't feeling like taking the opportunity to shoot lightning at his turned back. 

It wouldn't be a challenge.

Katara joins him in changing the subject. Holding out a hand, she introduces herself to the woman. “Hi, my name is Katara. This is—”

The woman clasps her hand in the traditional Water Tribe manner before cutting her off with a warning, “Names hold power. Be careful giving them out when malevolent Spirits could be lurking about.”

Aang wants to ask more, but he considers the circumstances. The morale. 

_One at a time._

They'll focus on healing the people of Ba Sing Se first, before they perish or become a source of power for a hungry Spirit. He can ask about other malevolent Spirits later, after the group has rested. 

He has noticed the tension in Katara's shoulders. The weariness wrapped around her like a blanket.

Katara nods to the woman in understanding, and she smiles in response, breaking the brevity of the moment, and says, “You may call me Lotus, as the cure requires fallen lotus seeds and I need your assistance in gathering them.”

* * *

 _Blah, blah, blah. Menial labor,_ thinks Azula with a frown, not looking forward to trudging through muddy waters. She lifts her feet with a squelch and contemplates staying on the Beast where it is dry.

“I doubt this chore requires _all_ of us,” begins Azula, crossing her arms. 

Beifong cuts her off. “Everyone has to pull their weight with chores,” she recites, seemingly unbothered by the layers of mud and decaying matter slopping against her bare feet.

Azula scowls at Beifong’s back and reluctantly follows. Stomping through the watery mud. 


	30. Chapter 30

“Waterbending is the worst,” says Toph as she stomps through the water. “Princess, back me up on this.”

“I’m concentrating,” replies Azula as she lifts a blob of water into the air. She moves one of her hands into a fist and the sediments in the water coalesce into a rock, leaving behind one red lotus bulb. Holding the bulb in glory, Azula says, “I agree, waterbending is the worst.”

Katara grumbles from her area of murky water. “I think only an actual waterbender’s opinion on waterbending should count.”

“I’m waterbending. I’m a waterbender,” counters Azula.

Katara calls out, “Aang! Tell them they're wrong.”

“Hold on, I think I can move these roots out of the way,” says Aang, spinning his hands and creating a vortex of air and water. He flings his hands out and does indeed succeed in pushing the roots away, but the pushback creates waves and one of them sweeps Toph off her feet.

“Okay, this time I’m going to assume whoever saved me isn’t Sokka,” says Toph. 

“You can’t swim,” states Azula.

Toph groans.

“Why can’t you swim?”

“Uh, hello?” Toph waves a hand in front of her face, splashing the water. “I’m blind!”

“You don’t need to see to swim.”

“Well I can't sense vibrations in the earth while I’m swimming.”

“You should learn how to swim.”

“Not happening.”

“I could let you drown right now. We’re still far away from the others. I’ll tell them I couldn’t find you. They’ll think it was an accident.”

Toph rolls her eyes and hopes Azula can see her doing so. “You can’t threaten me after saving my life.”

“…”

“…”

“…you’re learning how to swim.”

* * *

Aang beams. “I told you she saved her!”

Azula huffs. Since they’ve been given a chore, the group has become irritatingly upbeat. “Beifong is one of the strongest benders in this group. I would have let Zuko drown.”

“Wait a second,” says Sokka, “are you saying that I’m stronger than a bender?”

“I’m saying that Zuko is weaker,” defends Azula. She shrugs before adding, “You do have good ideas on occasion.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t mention it.”

Aang smiles and says, “You know, the silver lining to searching for lotus bulbs is that we’re all getting along.”

“More like we’re united in misery,” scoffs Azula.

“That’s the spirit!”

Sokka chops at a root. “I think I’d rather be dry and fighting. How many more do we need?”

“We’ll be done before you know it!”

“I can’t even see the bulbs,” complains Toph.

“Squish the mud with your feet! Feel the nature!”

“This would be a lot easier if the water wasn’t full of gunk,” says Katara, making a face as she flings away a dead Beaver possum. 

“You can do it! Think of it as training!”

“Are you always this annoyingly optimistic?” asks Azula. 

“Aang’s not annoying,” says Katara with a frigid glare, “and you could stand to be a lot nicer to your soulmate.”

Aang glances warily between them. “It’s okay, helping us is enough—”

“No Aang, it’s really not,” scolds Katara.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Azula coldly replies. “Now if you and Aang lift the water, Beifong and I can draw the sediments away, and the nonbender can pick out the bulbs.”

Katara stomps the water in frustration. “You guys are soulmates! You have his mark on your skin! How can you just ignore that? Doesn’t love mean anything to you?”

“Love?” repeats Azula, the others tensing as she moves closer to Katara. “Being soulmates doesn’t mean anything. Write to Zuko about our parents. They were soulmates. They weren’t in love.”

Katara frowns, confusion lacing her voice as she says, “…your parents were lifeline soulmates.”

“If he’s already spoken to you about them then you should know better than to constantly assume there will be attraction between me and the Avatar.”

Katara hesitates, before explaining in a gentle yet firm voice, “Lifeline soulmates means that your soulbond prevents you from directly killing the other. They don’t fall under the one love or even partial love category. That’s why they can sometimes be found in conjunction with other soulbonds.”

“Your point being?”

“What kind of tattoo soulmarks do you two have?” interjects Toph. “Matching or Indicator?”

“Symbolic!” crows Katara, “and those fall under the one love category; which means you don’t have a second soulmark like Sokka and, unlike lifeline soulmates, your soulmarks are spiritually linked. In fact, symbolic soulmarks were once called ‘true love marks’ because they were rare and they were believed to be formed by the universe splitting apart one's soul—”

“Could we please focus on the bulbs?” asks Aang, his hushed voice cutting through the group like cold winter wind. 

“I—I’m sorry, Aang,” says Katara, solemnly, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know. It’s fine.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m—”

“Stop meddling, waterbender,” snaps Azula.

“It’s called showing concern!”

“Both of you, stop. I want to focus on turning these bulbs into a cure and saving those people,” says Aang, turning to Katara. He doesn’t look at Azula.

That bothers her.

“Okay, but I want you to know that I think you deserve better,” says Katara, shooting Azula a withering glare.

Azula says nothing.

That bothers him.

The group continues to gather bulbs, the once upbeat mood replaced with tense, uneasy silence. 


	31. Chapter 31

Sokka warms his hands over the fireplace. “Ah, warmth.”

Toph spreads out on the floor and sighs happily. “Solid ground.”

“Let us never search for lotus bulbs again.”

“Agreed.”

They both turn as Aang walks in wearing a weak smile. “There you guys are. I thought you’d be helping grind the ingredients.”

“You’re not here to give us more responsibility are you?” asks Sokka, pausing in the removal of his mud-soaked shoes, “or worse, send us out to collect more bulbs?”

Aang sits down in front of the fireplace and folds his arms over his knees. “No, we found enough.”

“…did my sister send you to get me?” asks Sokka, warily.

Aang stares at the fireplace. “No, she didn’t. Lotus was with her; I don’t think she needs more help.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Toph lifts her head. “Did Princess send you here to make me learn how to swim?”

“No,” Aang says softly before adding, in a pensive manner, “I don’t think she’s going to teach you in muddy waters.”

“Okay.” Toph lays her head back down. “Cool.”

Sokka glances at Toph, who does not glance back, before resting his gaze on Aang. 

“Hey, Toph? Do you mind checking on Katara?” asks Sokka.

Toph pushes herself off the ground. “Not at all.”

* * *

Lightning is good for clearing one's mind. 

Azula stands on the damp vegetation, letting her chi rise and smother her tumultuous thoughts into clarity. 

She arches her hands, _— I'm getting far too comfortable around him.—_ sparks threaded through her fingertips. The air growing dry. _Him. Softly saying, implying, that a rejection from her would hurt_ — Azula draws her arm back, focusing on the tree in front of her, and waits for her mother to appear.

"You should use this weakness against him," scolds her father.

Lightning crackles as it turns against her, _he's not real,_ Azula haphazardly points at the tree. A burst of heat, far too close, nearly takes her hand off. She misses. The tree spots a new scar too high and to the left of her target. 

Azula breathes. 

_I didn't hear anything. The ground is wet, I would have heard him._

Azula walks to the spot her father was and inspects the ground. No indents. A hallucination.

_It was the stress._

She looks around. It's too dangerous for her to bend lightning along the water. Firebending could attract the others. Earthbending, perhaps...

"Because air is too intimate?" says the hallucination with a frightful, knowing, smirk. 

_Waterbending. Waterbending will require my full concentration._

Azula steps into position, but the hated element won't yield. 

She hears footsteps. "Learn the elements. Save the world. Bring me the Avatar. Save the Fire Nation," recites her father. 

Azula doesn't turn around. 

He leans over her shoulder until Azula can see his face.

"Tell me, Princess Azula, what do you think of that skeleton of a plan?"

She doesn't move.

"It's not very good is it?" continues her father, "Not when I know you could do so much better." 

_You're trying to kill me._

"I tried to kill Zuko too, and he usurped you. Are you weaker than him?"

Azula presses her lips together.

"Are you less deserving?"

_No father._

"Then prove it. Show me that you are worthy enough to be my daughter."

Azula changes her stance and fluidly, _perfectly_ , directs her body.

* * *

_“You lost to the waterbending peasant,” said her father, cutting off her spiel._

_“You lost to the Avatar,” replied Azula._

_She was trying to remind him of the similarities between them. It didn’t work._

_She had hoped she could reach him, free him, before he found out._

_His face revealed nothing. It was his voice that gave him away._

_“You think the Avatar is better than me,” he said quietly._

_“No father,” said Azula, staying in place even as every muscle in her body strained to move. To run. “He got lucky.”_

_“Indeed. Tell me, Princess Azula. Did your soulmark appear before your Agni Kai?”_

* * *

Droplets shakily gather around her fingers. 

"I didn't know you were a waterbender." 

Azula’s shoulders hunch and the water drops to the ground. She turns around. It's the healer. _Those must have been her footsteps._

"I'm not. I'm a firebender, Princess Azula of the Fire Nation. I share bending with the Avatar." 

"I see," says the healer, Lotus, tapping a finger against her lips. "No wonder you're struggling with waterbending." 

"Teach me," demands Azula. 

"Of course," Lotus smiles and moves her arms in coil-like motions until snakes of water are pointing at Azula, "You see, waterbending is all about adaptation." The healer thrusts her arms out. 

_Like I’m between a rock and a hard place. Waterbend or drown._

Azula copies the movement. 

_Like I'm punching a metal wall. Bend or break._

The water coils around her. 

“You have a lot of repressed anger,” murmurs Lotus, “Try ice. Withdraw your flames and sharpen your fury.”

“How?” asks Azula, her voice tinged with the barest hint of desperation.

 _Control the flames or they will consume you_.

Lotus sucks air sharply through her teeth and clicks her tongue. “Stop thinking like a firebender, girl. Don’t draw on emotions from within but let them manifest around you.”

Azula lowers her chi until she can feel the cold pressing against her skin. Ice forming along her hands.

“That’s it. Keep an open mind. The water is a part of you; let it adapt to your will.”

Azula completes the motion, circling her hands, bringing her arms closer to her body, before flinging them out. Icicles flying through the air before striking and embedding themselves into a tree. 

Lotus shrugs and says, “If I may make a few corrections?”

Azula nods, adrenaline coursing through her, and says, softly, “Thank you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, firebender.” Lotus moves closer. “Keep your feet shoulder width apart.”

Azula looks down and adjusts her stance. She feels hands clasps down on her shoulders.

“Lower your shoulders,” advises Lotus.

Azula obeys. She feels a pinch on the back of her neck.

“…and raise your guard.”

* * *

Toph finds Katara sitting in front of a cauldron and chopping up various herbs.

“Need any help?” asks Toph.

Katara looks up. “Huh? Oh, yeah, actually if you wouldn’t mind separating these snail slugs from their shells.”

“Sweet!” Toph grabs a handful and begins pulling apart the gooey gastropods; waiting patiently for Katara to say what’s on her mind.

She doesn’t have to wait long. 

“I messed things up didn’t I?” 

Toph shrugs. “We were all wondering what was going on between them.”

Katara sighs. “They’re supposed to be soulmates. It shouldn’t be taking this long for them to,” she waves her hands, “find a happy ending.”

“You know,” Toph says uncertainly, “You don’t need a soulmate to find true love. I certainly don’t. I don’t care if my soulmark never appears.”

Katara lays a comforting hand on Toph’s shoulders. “My parents were blanks.”

“They were?”

“Yes, they chose each other.” Katara smiles fondly. “My mother, despite not having a soulmark, would tell me all about them. She loved stories about soulmates finding each other almost as much as she loved stories about the Avatar. They gave her, us, hope.”

“…but if you don’t need a soulmate to find love, then why do you care so much about Aang and Azula being each other's soulmates?”

“Because Aang,” Katara’s voice cracks, “really, really, wanted to fall in love with his soulmate.” 

There is silence, and then Toph walks over to Katara and punches her on the shoulder.

“Twinkletoes will be fine," asserts Toph. "You should know by now that he’s tougher than he seems and, who knows, maybe he _can_ woo the Princess. It can’t be that much harder than saving the world.” 

Katara laughs softly and wipes her eyes. “Thanks, Toph.”

“Anytime.”

Lotus steps into the room.

* * *

Sokka glances at his wrapped wrist. “You know, when Yue died…Not “You” but “Yue”, my girlfriend, _my soulmate_ , it…felt bad.” Sokka hangs his head in frustration. Aang looks over in concern.

“She was important to you,” states Aang. 

“It’s not just that.” Sokka takes a deep breath and doesn’t lookup. “I’m used to people not coming back. I’m a warrior. We’re at war. It happens.”

Aang scoots closer. He wants to say something but the air around him is as heavy as it is familiar. He nods, instead, and when that small silent gesture causes Sokka to relax the weight off his shoulders; Aang feels as though there was a milestone in life and somehow he, Aang, had passed it by without realizing. 

“I didn’t know Yue for very long,” says Sokka, his tongue uncharacteristically loose around a topic heavier than stone, “and yet it hurts. It hurts a lot and it hasn’t stopped hurting. Not entirely.”

 _Maybe this is how Water Tribe men talk about their feelings,_ thinks Aang as he gives another nod. _Huddled in front of a fire, speaking only to be heard._

Aang gets it, in a way, but he favors the Air Nomad way of giving words and feelings freely to the open air. 

“I know what it’s like to lose a soulmate,” continues Sokka, “I know how much it hurts, but I found Suki and she makes everything _so much better_. You could find someone else too, regardless of your soulmark. I know you could. Do you want to?” 

* * *

“Thank you so much for helping us,” says Katara as Lotus drops the various cut herbs into the cauldron and stirs the bubbling broth.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” replies Lotus, picking up a bowl of ground lotus bulbs. “Here, both of you, gather around. Watch.”

“Blind,” deadpans Toph.

“Then smell,” she says curtly before tilting in the final ingredient.

The ground bulbs swirls into the milky broth, turning it blood red, and releases a momentous amount of smoke. 

“Is it—” Katara breaks into a coughing fit as Toph drops to the floor. “—supposed to be like this,” she finishes weakly before collapsing as well. 

“Why yes. Yes it is,” says Lotus cheerfully and continues stirring. 

* * *

“She’s my soulmate,” says Aang, and he hopes those words convey everything.

Sokka shifts, moving closer. They both stare into the fire instead of looking at each other. 

“…do you want her to be your soulmate?”

Aang says nothing. It would have been easier if his soulmate was Katara. The pieces would have made sense. Save the world. Kiss the girl. But now, even if Katara suddenly chose him as her soulmate, it wouldn’t fit. There was a mark on his back that would forever remind him that their picture wasn’t perfect. 

He could, at least, try to fall in love with Azula. Couldn’t he? It wasn’t as though he had a better option.

Aang frowns slightly before nodding. He feels an arm around his shoulder and turns in surprise. 

Sokka squeezes him in a half hug. “You know, with fishing you have to be patient—”

“I’m a vegetarian,” reminds Aang with visible confusion. 

Sokka sighs. “Yeah. I know. I’m saying to give Azula time.”

“Why not just say that?”

“Because—” Sokka blows air through his lips. “I don’t know. I was trying to be wise.”

Aang smiles. “Thanks, Sokka. I think you are pretty wise.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you—”

“There you are,” interrupts Lotus. She walks towards them and holds out two cups. “Here, this will make you immune to the poison. Be sure to drink it at once and at the same time.”

“Why do we have to do that?” asks Sokka skeptically. 

Lotus shrugs and folds her hands.

Sokka turns to Aang who shrugs in response.

The two of them look down at the blood red liquid in their cups.

“On the count of three?” suggests Aang. 

Sokka nods and seconds later they both down the liquid.

“Lotus?” calls Aang as his vision blurs.

“Please,” says a voice sounding so weak and far away that Aang can’t tell if it’s his or hers.

“Call me Hama.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first villain reveal! How did I do? :D


	32. Chapter 32

Azula wakes to darkness and a grating voice.

“Of all the people to be tied up to in the Spirit World it just _had_ to be you,” grumbles Katara. 

Azula kicks her foot out, her sole crushing against solid earth.

“How do you know we’re in the Spirit World?” demands Azula. 

“Look up.”

Azula tempers irritation at the waterbender and cranes her neck upwards. Jostling the ropes that bound them back to back. 

_We’re in a pit,_ thinks Azula at first as she stares at the misty circle of light above them. Then she realizes that the mist isn’t sinking in, as gravity dictates, but swirling around as though it was led by an invisible current flowing over glass. There is an ethereal feel to it and, despite her focus, Azula cannot assess the distance between them and the exit.

“For the record, I’d rather be tied to a rampaging Tigerdillo,” replies Azula, ignoring the pricklings of fear. 

Katara wiggles in her bonds. “Can you feel your bending at all?”

No. Azula cannot. 

_Avatar nonsense,_ thinks Azula spitefully and takes stock of her predicament. No bending. No injuries. Azula privately blames the injection for her failing. She would have woken before the waterbender otherwise. 

“What do you last remember?” asks Azula as she confirms, for the third time, that there was no slack between the rope and her hands. 

“Lotus is behind the red gas,” says Katara, bitterly, “The _antidote_ she had us help make was actually the formula. She got Toph and I with the fumes. You?”

“Injection,” says Azula before frowning as she recalled how she was taken out. “Lotus is a waterbender.”

“Stronger than you?”

Azula pushes both her legs against the pitch-black wall; shoving Katara. 

“Hey! Cut that out!” exclaims Katara. 

“She snuck up on me,” answers Azula with a final shove.

Katara fumes and braces her own legs against the wall, before swallowing her ire.

“We may be able to climb out by pressing against each other like this,” says Katara.

“I already thought of that, waterbender. It’s too likely to result in both of us plummeting to our death.”

Katara grits her teeth. “Do you want to stay down here?” she asks.

“Instead of plummeting to my death? Yes.”

Azula kicks against the wall; hoping to break off something sharp.

“Will you stop that?” snaps Katara, “It’s bad enough being in your company without the background noise.” 

“I’m trying to get us untied, and any noise is preferable to your annoying voice.”

“My voice annoys you? Good to know! I’ll keep talking _just for you_ , Princess Azula.”

Azula tries to call upon a flame. Nothing. She grits her teeth.

“Hmm, what to talk about?” continues Katara, “Oh, I know! How about when you apologized for striking Aang and Zuko with lightning? Oh wait, you _didn’t_ —”

“Get over it.”

Katara pushes off against the wall and Azula has to brace her legs to avoid being shoved into it face first. 

“Get over it?” hisses Katara, her voice taking on a deadly, rising, tone. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to pretend everything is fine because you haven’t tried to kill us again. Well, I’m not Aang or Zuko. I don’t forgive those who’ve tried to kill me and my friends just because they had a mental breakdown and I—”

Azula drops her legs and twists, using the forward motion to scrape Katara against the wall. Katara responds by dropping to her knees and hefting her shoulders; pulling Azula off balance. 

“You didn’t even say sorry! At least Zuko apologized!” yells Katara as they twist around on the floor.

Azula strikes back with, “You expect the Avatar to solve all your problems! If it wasn’t for him you would have never left the South Pole!” 

“Excuse me? I trust Aang and—”

“You trust the Avatar,” cuts off Azula, “you expect him to rescue us out of this situation.” 

“I don’t expect him to rescue me all the time!” snarls Katara, “And when I do, it’s because I believe in him. Not that I’d expect you to know that, considering how you don’t have any friends!”

“You’ve never been on a pedestal yourself. Of course you wouldn’t know,” scoffs Azula, ignoring the deepness of that last jab, “I’ll educate you. Being on a pedestal, having people rely on you as a prodigy, means that your love is conditional. You’ll appreciate Aang as long as he meets your conditions. If he fails then he’s no longer worthy of your attention. He’s a mistake.” _Like Zuzu._ “And if she doesn’t know your conditions, doesn’t meet them in the way you wanted but never bothered to specify, then she’s a monster and you’re better off without her.” _Like me._

“Is that what it was like for you?” asks Katara, her quiet voice cutting through the air. This close, Katara can feel Azula’s body forcibly relax.  
  
“Zuko told me stories,” offers Katara by way of explanation when Azula says nothing. 

There is silence in the pit.

“Azula always lies,” recites Azula in a half-whisper. “You would have never believed my apology.”

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” retorts Katara.

“I’m not one. I’m sorry.”

A pause.

“I accept your apology. If you lean your head back I think I can grab your headpiece with my mouth and use it to cut these ropes.”

“Try not to get spit all over it.”

“No promises.”

* * *

“I can’t see,” says Toph.

“I know,” replies Sokka.

“No, I mean. _I can’t see._ ” Toph scrunches up her face in an attempt to stop any tears from forming. It was bad enough that she was helpless, she wouldn’t be helpless and _crying_. 

She feels Sokka’s calloused hand touch her arm. 

“What does the ground feel like?” he asks.

Toph raises her foot and stomps it against the ground. “Watery but not really. Same as before. What’s it like on your end?”

“There’s a fog,” explains Sokka, “A misty, swirly one. I can’t see past it.”

“Can you see the ground?”

“No.”

Sokka thumps a club into the ground, carving out a line. He removes the club. “Can you feel that line I made just now?”

Toph moves her foot over the spot. “No, it’s gone.”

Sokka breathes out through his teeth. “How lucky are you feeling right now?” he asks, returning his weapon. “Because we need to pick a direction to go before something bad finds us or the others.”

* * *

There’s a fog.

Aang blinks awake, a chill seeping into him, and groggily asks, “What happened?”

“I made a deal.”

“Hama,” says Aang, standing up. Warily he takes note of the distance between them and her relaxed hands. “You’re behind the sickness of Ba Sing Se?”

“Is that what they’re calling it now? A sickness?” Hama smiles coldly. “The Earth Kingdom didn’t help anyone, you know. Not the Water Tribes, nor the Air Nomads.”

She steps back, disappearing into the fog. 

“That doesn’t make it right,” answers Aang, hefting his staff.

“Don’t lecture me about morality, _boy,_ ” scolds Hama. 

Aang twists, trying to discern the location of her voice. “Why not? Seems to me like you’re judging everyone else’s.”

Hama cackles. Her laugh echoing from all sides.

Aang clenches his jaw. “What deal did you make?” he shouts. 

“Years of my life in return for _this._ ” With that, the fog coalesces into a wave that heads towards Aang.

Aang spins his staff in defense. _I can’t bend,_ he realizes moments too late as the wave slams into him.

* * *

_Water. Cold. Frozen. My fault. They’re dead and it’s my fault._

Aang stumbles backwards before bringing his staff down and bracing himself against it. 

My friends are alive. They need me, he reminds himself, forcefully. Realization dawning on him. 

“The fish!” he exclaims. “You were behind the disappearing villagers!”

Hama scowls. “Yes,” she says curtly.

“Did the corrupt spirit force you to?”

“No, not at all,” Hama smiles and gestures around them. “As you cleverly figured out, the spirit fed on sadness. I had plenty to offer it. This place is made up of sad memories, the years I lost during the war, and I saw no reason to not also feed and augment the spirit with the sadness of others.”

Aang strikes with his staff, hoping to catch her off guard, only for Hama to effortlessly block him with her waterbending.

Her eyes glint with anger. “The spirit gave me my youth back, Avatar. Which is more than you ever gave me.”

“The war is over,” he protests as Hama disappears once more. The fog shifting around him slightly, only enough to let him know that she is circling.

Aang swallows his fear. He waits and he listens.

There is a chill. 

He strikes, only for his blow to sweep through a cold cloud of nothingness.

The fog around him thickens. 

* * *

“You judge me on my morality?” continues Hama. Her voice mocking in both tone and nearness. “How ironic considering I believed in you, Avatar. I hoped just like my dear dead comrades that you would wake up and end the war.”

Aang spins in an attempt to blow the fog away, but his muscles jerk back and lock into place and his body is no longer his to control.

Hama steps out in front of him, the fog swirling around her. _Feeding off her,_ realizes Aang. She lifts her hands and he strains as, like a puppeteer, she commands his arms to do the same. 

“But you put his firstborn on the throne,” says Hama, closing her hands.

* * *

“What is it?” asks Toph as Sokka stills. 

“Bodies,” he answers in a strained voice.

She squeezes his arm. “Anyone we know?”

Sokka, still letting himself be used as an anchor, steps towards one and kneels. “They’re Fire Nation soldiers,” he says, brushing his fingers against the skull-shaped visor. He lifts it up and flinches. “They’re old,” he lies, “Let’s keep moving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now you can see parts of the threadbare plot I hastily stitched together


	33. Chapter 33

As soon as they escape from the pit, Azula flicks out her wrist.

Fire—an element more familiar than her heartbeat—has become a stranger. 

Azula looks up from her unlit hands and watches with a detached, morbid fascination, as the waterbender tries to coax the ever-growing mist into obedience—and fails.

Katara drops her form, and trails her hands across the goosebumps on her arms, hugging herself she asks, with her back towards Azula, “Where should we go?”

_Away from here._

Azula doesn’t voice the thought, her fear, and it remains unspoken. A silence passes over them. There is nothing to see aside from each other, a hole in the ground, and a terrifying fog. 

Azula rolls up her sleeves, the small rustling movement drawing the waterbender’s curiosity.

They don’t say anything to each other; the conversation in the pit being forcefully buried by Azula, and remaining unspoken as a courtesy from Katara. 

_Anger quells fear._

Rare advice from her father that Azula molds to her current situation. She looks down on the obstinate blue arrows marring her arms and lets the loathing wash over her. 

_This is all your fault._

Only the Avatar could make her feel _helpless._ And, of course, he doesn’t dignify her defeat with his presence! This scenario, her undoing, was all due to _him._

_I hate you,_ thinks Azula, anger coursing through the veins where fire normally would.

She closes her eyes and concentrates on activating the Avatar State. 

_I hate you but I love your power._

She opens her eyes.

Nothing.

_Avatar. Fucking. Nonsense._

“What are you doing here?”

Azula snaps her head to the side. The movement once more grasping the waterbender’s attention. 

“Katara? Can you see me?” says the figure at the same time Katara abruptly asks, “What are you staring at?”

The figure turns. 

_Great,_ thinks Azula, as she notes the similarities in appearance, the motherly concern so etched into a face that it’s practically engraved, and the way the waterbender is looking through the figure, _Now I’m hallucinating other people’s mothers._

“Nothing,” lies Azula at the same time the hallucination shrewdly concludes, “You can see me.”

Katara doesn’t bother to hide her skepticism, but, lacking evidence, she relents. “We need to find the others. Do you remember which way Lotus came?”

“No—"

“Direction and distance don’t matter here.”

"—but I doubt direction has an affect on this place.” 

“Ah, so you can hear me.”

Azula pretends to not have heard. 

“Let’s go this way then,” offers Katara with a shrug, and she walks through the woman. 

_You don’t exist,_ thinks Azula spitefully at the apparition’s shocked face. 

“Please,” calls out the stubborn hallucination as Azula walks past, “At least let my daughter know I’m here.”

Azula’s mouth tightens. 

“My name is Kya—”

“What’s your mother’s name?” demands Azula, angrily turning towards the waterbender. 

_“What?”_ exclaims Katara before defensively crossing her arms. “Why do you want to know?”

_Peace of mind._

“Is it Kya?”

* * *

“Take ten steps back,” commands Toph.

“Why?” asks Sokka as he follows her command. Belatedly, he realizes he should announce the steps. 

“Ten,” he proclaims. 

Toph tugs the hem of his shirt as she takes an extra two, smaller, steps back. “Do you see the bodies?” she asks.

“No.” Sokka squints at the swirling condensation. Warily, he asks, “Do you?” 

“Nope.” Toph pops the “p” but her voice is steadier than she feels. “This is where we left the—”

“Are you sure?” asks Sokka, cutting her off. If Toph has noticed his uneasiness, she doesn’t point it out.

“Positive.”

“Alright.” Sokka nods, more to himself than to the blind earthbender. He reaches behind himself, his fingers grasping around a new yet familiar weight. 

“Boomerang Two! You know what to do!”

* * *

“How do you know my mom’s name?” yells Katara, grabbing Azula by the shirt, “Answer me!”

“Tell her I’m here.”

Azula ignores her. It. 

“I guessed—”

“Liar,” says Katara, flatly and she lowers her voice into a deadly whisper. “Azula, I swear, if you had anything to do with my mother’s death—”

“I didn’t. I’m _your_ age.” She forcibly reminds Katara before pushing her away.

Katara considers her words and reluctantly relaxes her stance. “Then how did you know?” she pointedly asks. 

“I—” Azula glances around. _Where did she go?_

She feels a hand brush the back of her neck. 

_“Get off of me!”_ she shrieks, turning around and reaching for fire that is no longer there.

There’s a hole in the ground. She stumbles.

A mother reaches out for her. Azula feels her eyes begin to _burn._

* * *

Hand gripped tight around her wrist. An urgency in her mother’s footsteps.

“I was—”

“Quiet.” 

Sliding panels. A hidden hallway. Azula had watched, mesmerized by the secrecy, and had thought, at the time, that it was the beginning of a grand adventure. One with just her and Mom. 

“Azula, listen to me.” Her mother pressed her hands to the sides of Azula’s face, and knelt down, dirtying her robes. “I need you to tell me what you heard.” 

Azula did her best, reciting the words as well as she could recollect them, changing her tone to match her father's and grandfather's. 

And then Mom left.

* * *

_SLAP!_

Her face stinging, Azula rights her head back and glares at the waterbender.

“You were screaming,” says the waterbender, and Azula, noticing the dryness in her throat and the wetness across her face, diverts her rage.

“What happened?” she rasps, wiping her face and carefully standing up.

“You were screaming,” repeats the waterbender.

“About what?” demands Azula, for while the fear in the waterbender’s demeanor is welcome, her own confusion is not. She takes a step forward, away from the hole behind her, and the waterbender tenses even further. 

“I apologize if I scared you,” says Azula, her voice on the edge of mockery, “but I do believe we have greater concerns, like finding your friends perhaps?”

The waterbender clenches and unclenches her jaw. Azula waits, assured of victory up until the waterbender opens her mouth and asks, “How long have you been seeing hallucinations?” 

* * *

“Zuko’s not his father,” defends Aang even as he strains against the pressure squeezing his chest. 

Hama flexes her hands, granting Aang a moment of reprieve with which he uses to take a breath of air and assess his current predicament. 

_I can't move. Not with brute force,_ concludes Aang. He focuses on trying to bend his blood back into his control, but if he is offering any resistance at all then Hama certainly isn't showing it.

Instead, Hama slowly twists her hands and Aang feels his body begin to pull apart.

* * *

Sokka catches his boomerang. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be two parts but it read better if I broke it up here plus I wanted to update sooner rather than later. Update schedule broken due to the dreaded combo of real life + writer woes. Will likely be over analyzing this chapter for awkward wording and grammar/punctuation mistakes, let me know if you find any or have any other feedback.


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